


Extreme Makeover: Hermione Edition

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Explicit Language, Multi, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-21
Updated: 2008-10-02
Packaged: 2018-09-30 11:57:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 81,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10162559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: Cliche challenge fic! Hermione is tricked in to being a partcipant in a Muggle reality show where five men from her past must compete to win her heart. Who will she fall for and will they pick the money or her?





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

Disclaimer: This story contains characters created and owned by J.K. Rowling, Aol/Time Warner as well as Scholastic Inc and Bloomsbury Publishing. No profit is being made from these stories and no copyright infringement is intended. I have also based characters in this story on actual hosts and judges from reality shows. I mean no harm, so please don't sue me.

A/N: THIS WAS WRITTEN FOR THE GREAT CLICHE CHALLENGE AT GRANGER ENCHANTED. I CHOSE MAKEOVER! HERMIONE, AND HAVE DECIDED TO THROW ANOTHER OVER-USED CLICHE INTO THE PLOT: THE REALITY SHOW. REMEMBER, THIS IS MEANT TO BE FUN. A SPECIAL THANKS TO MY BETA LADY LYNN!

The coffee shop was over crowded, and Hermione and Ginny sat at a corner table, sipping their hot lattes, their elbows every now and then hitting a passing customer who was squeezing in between tables.

"I just don’t understand," Hermione sighed, "am I that unattractive that no man ever gives me a second glance?" She placed a stray lock of her out-of-control, frizzy, hair behind her ear, where it stayed for less than a second before falling back into her face. "All men look at me as their little sister." She blew the hair from her eyes, and picked up her breakfast. "Or worse, they think I’m ugly."

"Who thinks your ugly?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Malfoy. He said my face looks like someone set it on fire and put the flames out with a shovel."

"Ginny spit her coffee out all over the table. "Di… did he really say that?" She wanted to laugh so badly, but knew Hermione wouldn’t appreciate it at all. "Where does that man come up with his insults?" she wondered out loud, secretly appreciating his witty talent. "Don’t let what he said bother you! He is Malfoy after all. He was always a prick." She took another sip from her cup and looked over the rim at her best friend who was obviously feeling sorry for herself. "There are plenty of guys who think you’re attractive and would kill to go out with you." Hermione gave her a ‘nice try’ look and Ginny shrugged her shoulders in defeat.

"I really thought Ron and I had something, you know? I was stupid enough to think that he loved me, and what happens?" she asked, biting ferociously into her éclair. "He runs off with the first tart that shows him any attention!" She dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin, sat her half-eaten éclair on her plate, and picked up the Muggle newspaper. "He’s such a jackass!" she murmured. 

"Well, at least you had the pleasure of seeing him dumped by that big-breasted cheap whore. That had to have made your day!" Ginny said with a smile. "I know mum was ecstatic. She’s never forgiven him for hurting you like he did." In fact, Molly hadn’t talked to Ron willingly in months.

"You want to know the sad thing, Gin?" Hermione asked, scanning the headlines. "I’d probably take him back in a second if he asked. That’s how desperate I am!" She flipped the pages until she came to the classified section. "Let’s see if I can find myself a man in the want ads. Oh, here we go!" she said with fake enthusiasm. "Very intelligent, good-looking man in early twenties seeks woman with brains AND nice body who likes sunsets and poetry." She snorted. "Guess that leaves me out! Nice body? That I definitely don’t have!"

"Damn it, Hermione!" Ginny said snatching the paper from her hands. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Who said you need a damn man to make you happy anyway? All they do is cause problems and make your life miserable. Sure, they’re good for a little sex every once in a while, but other than that…"

Hermione glared at her from across the table. What did Ginny know about being boyfriend-less? She had never been without a man since she was twelve! She was quite secure in her relationship with Harry. She had nothing to worry about. "Of course you can say that! You’re not the one who’s going to end up a bitter, lonely, old woman with a dried up vagina sitting in her rocking chair knitting booties for children she never had a chance to have!" She stood to leave, taking her jacket from the back of the chair and quickly pulling it on.

"You have a way with words, you know that?" Ginny said, grinning. "Something you and Malfoy have in common." She winked at her friend and made kissing noises.

"Don’t ever compare that… to that… molestus bastard per lectus penis!" she snapped in Latin. "I hate that arrogant ponce, and would like nothing better than to see him fall from his broom high over London and plummet to his well deserved death!" Stomping her foot in anger, she fled from the café, the tiny bell over the door tinkling against the glass.

"A way with words!" Ginny said with a chuckle, picking up the discarded newspaper. She sipped her cold latte and scanned the classifieds with boredom. She didn’t have to be at Quidditch practice for another hour, and really wasn’t looking forward to all her teammates gushing over the new team owner, Oliver Wood. It seemed he spent his life savings just to buy the Harpies, and he was going to make sure he turned them into a winning team.

She had had enough of his crazy fanaticism during Hogwarts and didn’t understand how a gorgeous man like him could care about nothing but Quidditch. She didn’t remember him having a girlfriend back at school. In fact, she could never recall hearing about him being connected to any woman- ever. Was that his problem? He needed to get laid? ‘Or maybe’, she thought, ‘he’s a fudgepacker…'

Her thoughts about Oliver’s sexual orientation drifted from her mind as her eyes fell on a small ad about half way down the page:

Seeking participants for a new and exciting reality show! Only people in need of finding true love should apply. Send an essay to the address at the bottom explaining why you are the most desperate, love-starved individual on the face of the earth. If you’re lucky, we’ll give you a chance to not only find your soul mate, but win up to a million dollars! Only serious applicants need apply.

Ginny lifted her black leather purse from the floor beside her chair, fished out a Muggle pen and asked the waitress for a sheet of paper.

……………………………………………………..

Two weeks later at Hermione’s flat:

"So, Gin," Hermione said, plopping down on the sofa next to her. "How’s Oliver Wood working out?" she inquired with snarky grin. Apparently, Wood was crazy, or at least gripped in tight steel fist of Quidditch frenzy that threatened to make them commit him to St. Mungo’s. The Harpies had just about had it with him and some were even thinking about quitting.

"He is impossible!" Ginny said with fervor, waving her hands in the air. "I swear he’s going to kill us all with his regimen of extreme exercise. It’s torture!" She lifted up her shirt, showing her tone stomach. "Look! I have a six-pack!" She shoved her shirt back down and made a muscle pop up on her right bicep. "I look like a fucking man, Hermione!"

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. "I think you look great. I bet Harry loves those big muscular thighs wrapped around him in the throws of passion."

"Harry’s afraid to come anywhere near me, and who could blame him? Who wants a woman who’s so built she could crack a Snitch in half with her arse cheeks?" Ginny joined in with Hermione’s hysterical laughter, imagining actually demonstrating that in front of Harry. "In all seriousness," she said, holding the stitch in her side. "Wood is ruining my sex life! He needs to go before my…"

Ginny was interrupted by a loud knocking at Hermione’s front door.

"Are you expecting anyone?" Ginny asked, her heart suddenly thumping out of control. She had been thinking nonstop about that essay she sent in. What would Hermione do if she found out she had submitted something like that while pretending to be her? What if the people at the door were from that reality show?

"I have no idea who it could be," Hermione said with a shrug. She strode to the door and looked through the peep hole. "What the hell…"

"Oh, Merlin," Ginny moaned, picking up the throw pillow and burying her face into it.

Hermione opened the door slowly, not believing what she was seeing. "Can I help you?" she asked the tall man wearing what she assumed to be a very expensive suit. He was carrying a briefcase, as was the very attractive woman by his side who was well coiffed and smartly dressed. She was the one to hold out her hand. "Hermione Granger?" she asked.

Another man, dressed in torn denims and a faded black t-shirt with a smiley face on it, popped up behind them and snapped her picture, blinding her momentarily. "Who… who are you?" Hermione asked, shaking the woman’s warm hand.

"My name is Myra Shanks, and this is Donald Clump," she answered with a bright, clearly bleached smile. "We are from the BBC and want to congratulate you on your winning essay."

"Essay?" Hermione asked, confuzzled. "What essay?"

"Shit. Shit. Shit!" Ginny said tossing the pillow to the floor and rushing to the door. "Hi!" she said, leaning on the doorframe. She slowly turned her head towards Hermione. "You knoooowww!" she said panicking. "The essay you wrote about how you’re desperate for love? The one you sent into the reality show?"

"Excuse us," Hermione said through clenched teeth, grabbing Ginny roughly by the arm and dragging her inside. "We’ll be right back," she said with fake happiness to the BBC people and then shut the door.

………………………………………………………..

Myra looked over at Donald, her eyebrows disappearing into her slicked back hairline. "How utterly rude!"

"She’s perfect!" Donald said, "plain but not ugly, flat-chested and bookish. Imagine what she’ll look like when we’re through with her!"

………………………………………………………...

"What the bloody hell is going on, Ginny?" Hermione asked, backing her into the corner. "What essay? What reality show? What have you done?" she screeched, whipping out her wand.

"I was only trying to help!" Ginny shouted back. "You’re always bitching about being ugly and men not liking you, so when I saw this ad for a new Muggle reality show, I applied for you!"

………………………………………………………...

On the other side of the door, Donald had his ear pressed up against the wood, listening to the arguing inside. When he heard the word ‘Muggle’ his jaw dropped. ‘Could it be?’ he wondered. ‘Is this the famous Hermione Granger, friend of Harry Potter?’ Clearing his throat, he rapped on the door with his knuckles. "Excuse me, Miss Granger, but we have important things to discuss and very little time!"

……………………………………………………….

Hermione slipped her wand back into her pocket. "You are going to open that door, Ginny, and tell them it was you who wrote that essay, and that you made a terrible mistake in thinking I would ever do something as stupid as starring in a reality show."

"You are so ungrateful, you know that? All I want is to see you happy. It’ll be fun!"

Hermione’s eyes were bugging from her head in disbelief. "You think that parading around on the telly in front of millions of people who’ll think I’m a pathetic, miserable, unattractive loser who can’t find a man to save her life would be fun for me?"

Ginny frowned and her shoulders sagged. "Well, when you say it like that…"

Both of their heads quickly turned to the door as Donald knocked again. "Miss Granger!" he said, sounding very impatient. "Can you please do us the courtesy of speaking with us before you make any snap decisions?"

Hermione pursed her lips and cursed Ginny for getting her into this situation. "I’ll be right there, Mr. Clump." She gave Ginny one last angry glare and then opened the door. "Please, come in, won’t you? Sorry about that, but there has been some kind of misunderstanding and my friend Ginny and I…"

"She sent it in for you, didn’t she?" Myra said, flashing her white teeth. "You had no idea she entered you?"

Hermione noticed the man named Donald was glancing curiously around the room, his eyes narrowed as if looking for something. Ginny saw him catch sight of a few moving pictures in gilded frames on the table next to the chair and quickly ran to stand in front of them. Donald looked at her suspiciously, and turned away.

The photographer snapped another picture, the flash lighting up the room, annoying Hermione to no end. "Look, I didn’t give you permission to take my picture, so I’m going to have to ask you to kindly to quit …" She was blinded once more. "That’s it! I asked you very nicely to stop and now I just want you people out of my flat! Now! I don’t want to be any part of this show of yours, so just…"

Myra looked angrily over at Donald. "Do something! You know we need this or we’re going to get the axe, and I just bought a new house and BMW!"

Donald, wondering if what he suspected was true, knew exactly to do. "Miss Granger? May I speak to you and Miss…" he looked over at Ginny.

"Weasley."

"Yessss… Miss Weasley," he said lifting his eyebrow, knowing now for sure who these people were. "May I please speak to you alone? Without the photographer, of course." He gave her the saddest hang-dog look he could, and he could see her hard exterior crumbling.

Hermione, against her better judgment, relented and led the beaming man into the kitchen, followed closely by a highly curious Ginny. "Look Mr. Clump," she said, turning on him as soon as they were alone. "About this whole reality show…"

"If it’s the fact that this is a Muggle show and you are a witch…" Donald said slyly.

"What did you just say?" Hermione asked, startled. She could see Ginny out of the corner of her eye, hand clutching her throat, just as surprised as she was.

"Did you honestly think I wouldn’t recognize you? Why you’re both famous for Merlin’s sake!" he said, bubbling over with excitement. "I never in a million years ever thought I’d be standing in the same room with the people who helped Harry Potter vanquish the Dark Lord!"

Hermione thought the man might lose his composure and dance a jig right on the kitchen linoleum. "If you’re a wizard, why are you working for Muggle television?"

"Back in my younger days, I became obsessed with everything Muggle, especially their technology. The first time I strolled by a window with a display of televisions showing different programs, I was hooked. I swear I must have stood in front of that store for hours, entranced with the images. It was amazing and wonderful! I knew from that moment on, that I wanted a career in the television industry!" He spoke with the dangerous tone of a zealot and his face was glowing with something like love.

"Okay…" Ginny said, mouthing the word ‘nutter’ to Hermione.

"Now that we’ve cleared that up, what did you want to talk to us about?" Hermione asked, impatiently.

"I didn’t want to talk, Miss Granger, I wanted to beg."

"You’re begging me to do your stupid show?" she chuckled. "Well, save your breath because there is no way in hell I’m ever going to do it."

Donald looked crushed. "But you haven’t heard what it’s about yet! Maybe you’ll change your mind once I’ve told you how great it’s going to be!"

Hermione leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms defiantly over her chest. "Alright, Mr. Clump, wow me."

He cleared his throat, clearly scared that Hermione wouldn’t hear him out. ‘Better make this good!’ he thought. "First off, we do a makeover on you- an extreme makeover; breast implants, a little work on your face, new hair style…" He thought she really needed a new hair do. "Then we give you lessons on how to be a sexy vixen, give you a killer outfit and then…"

"And then what?" Hermione asked, "After butchering my body and sewing it back up, shaving my head and giving me a wig to wear, teaching me to act like a ho and dressing me up like a tart, what could possibly come next?"

Donald wiped the sweat from his upper lip. If he didn’t succeed in getting this witch to do the show, he and Myra were going to be fired. For some reason, the station owner wanted this woman and no one else. "You see, we are going to pick five men from your past, put them in a house together for a month and make them compete for money and a chance to be with you at the end."

"Good luck trying to find five men who would want me," Hermione said sarcastically. "I guess that kills your show doesn’t it?" She pushed off the counter. "Now, I would appreciate it if you and Miss Shanks left…"

Donald scrambled to get control of the situation. "But don’t you see? You will be so beautiful that no man will be able to resist you! Those men from your past will be killing each other to get a date with you! Just think about it, Miss Granger: those men who never gave you a second thought, willing to do anything to be with you."

He saw her stop in her tracks and squared his shoulders, standing up tall and confident now. "You, of course, will have the final say at the end of the show whether you want to be with the man you’ve chosen or not. It would be wonderful revenge to make a man fall in love with you and then break his heart, now wouldn’t it?" He knew he had her hooked- or at least he thought so.

Hermione was so tempted to take the offer. Just the thought of picking Ron and then telling him to bugger off in front of millions of viewers was making her giddy with delight. Then again, how embarrassing would be to parade the fact that she had to be totally made-over to get a man?

She reasoned it out and came up with an ultimatum that made it almost impossible for her to be on the show. "I’ll do the show on one condition: I pick the men, and unless they all agree to sign up for the show, I’m not going to do it."

"You devious little witch!" Ginny said, astounded by her friends crafty mind.

Donald could see no other option other than to agree to her terms. He would have to find someway of talking the men into being on the show. "Fine." He called Myra into the kitchen. Both opened their briefcases and spread out mounds of paperwork and contracts over the kitchen table for her to sign. "Their names please," Donald said, looking up at her.

Hermione took the seat next to him, put her elbows on the table, and rested her hands under her chin. Giving him a snarky grin, she rattled out the names of five men she was sure he would never get to come on Muggle television: Draco Malfoy, Oliver Wood, Ron Weasley, Cormac McLaggen and Blaise Zabini.

"What!" Ginny shouted from across the room. "Cormac? Blaise?" She needed a drink of water. Rushing over to the sink, she filled a glass and chugged it down. "Are you crazy? None of the men you picked are worthy of you! How are you supposed to find true love when you have to choose between a rich jerk, a sports fanatic, my brother who dumped you for a dim-witted slag, a prick who thinks he’s all that, and man who never said more than two words to you the entire time we were at school, but hates you just the same?"

"That’s the point, Ginny!" Hermione said in exasperation.

After an hour of signing contracts, Donald and Myra were finally ready to leave. "I’ll make contact with the gentlemen we agreed upon and as soon as I receive replies from them, I’ll get back to you," Donald said, shaking her hand. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger, and I look forward to working with you in the future."

"I’m afraid there will be no future for us, Mr. Clump, because there is no way in hell any of those men will agree to do the show."

He gave her a shrug. "We’ll see, Miss Granger, a little persuasion can go a long way. Everyone has their price." He glanced over at Ginny, who was biting her cuticles and pretending not to listen. "Miss Weasley, would you care to show us to the door?"

"I guess," Ginny said, confused by why they were asking her to show them to the door of someone else’s flat. She led them from the room and opened the door. The photographer was already waiting in the car, and after saying a farewell, Miss Shanks made her way to the shiny vehicle and climbed inside, leaving her alone with Donald.

He sniffed the roses on the trellis and shifted his briefcase to his other hand. "Miss Weasley, do you think your friend needs this?"

"Needs this?" What the hell was he talking about?

"In your opinion, would being a participant on this show help her to get over her insecurities and possibly find love for the first time in her life?"

Ginny didn’t even have to think. "Yes."

"Then I would like to ask you to accompany me to the homes of these men and persuade them to be on the show."

"I don’t know…" she said uncomfortably. How would Hermione feel about her going behind her back again and messing with things that were none of her business?

"Miss Weasley," he said, placing his hand gently on her arm. "If you care at all about your friend’s happiness, you have no choice other than to do anything you possibly can to help her."

This Mr. Clump was a tricky bastard. Ginny was almost sure he was screwing with her, but he did have a point. "As long as she doesn’t find out I helped you, I’ll do it."

He grinned, reminding Ginny of a hungry shark. "First stop will be to Mr. Draco Malfoy. Shall I pick you up tonight at seven?"

"Sure," Ginny said unenthusiastically. She dreaded having to beg Malfoy for anything. She could already imagine his stupid, smirking, face…

………………………………………………..

Ginny and Donald stood at the front gate to Draco’s manor house, looking up in awe. Neither one had ever seen such an obvious display of wealth before. There must have been fifty gardeners clipping the lawn and trimming the shrubberies, and bubbling, spouting fountains in the shapes of mermaids and dolphins were placed in the middle of perfect little flower gardens.

"Disgusting," Ginny said, as if all the wealth left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Without a doubt!" Donald said as the gate swung open and they walked up the long drive to the front door. He lifted the brass knocker and set it down, the sound echoed loudly.

It was answered by a house-elf with short stubby ears wearing a green and white polka dot bow tie and nothing else. He babbled on to them about stupid things while leading them into the drawing room, where they found Draco lounging on a leather sofa, reading the Prophet. He set the paper aside and slowly got to his feet.

"Weasley?" he said, shocked. "Come to borrow some money?" He chuckled, loving the anger that rushed to her face. "Or perhaps you heard what an amazing lover I am and thought you’d like to find out for yourself? Potter not giving you what you need?"

Ginny clenched her fists at her sides, wanting nothing more than to knock his teeth down his throat. ‘This is for Hermione. Just keep cool, kiss his ass and beat the shit out of him after the show.’ She took a deep breath and gave him a huge fake smile. "Malfoy, may I introduce Mr. Donald Clump."

Draco looked the man over as if studying an interesting piece of art work. He rubbed his chin, narrowed his eyes and walked around the man in a circle, appraising him. "Very nice suit. Clearly expensive and in good taste. Nice leather shoes, close shave, and hair to rival my own…"

Donald was feeling a bit weirded out. He had heard of this man’s reputation, and apparently everything he had heard was true and then some. He was very handsome, and had that arrogant drawl and the lazy demeanor only the rich could get away with. "Mr. Malfoy, I am here to make you an offer."

Draco stopped circling and went to pour himself a drink. He said nothing until he was done taking his first sip. "I’m intrigued, Mr. Clump," he said, offering them a drink. When both refused, he sat the carafe down, and leaned on the bar, looking dashing in his fancy clothes. "What could it be?" he wondered out loud. "What could you possibly want from me?"

"What I want, Mr. Malfoy, is for you to be a participant in a Muggle reality show- on the telly."

Draco almost spit out his scotch all over his Persian rug. "You want me to be on television?" He laughed like it was the most ridiculous request he had ever heard. "Why the fuck would I, a talented Pureblood wizard, want to disgrace myself by prancing around on Muggle televison?" He sat his drink down and turned to Ginny. "And why are you here, Weasley? What do you have to do with this? Is this some new obsession of your Muggle-loving father?"

Donald jumped in before Ginny could start shouting obscenities. "You see, Mr. Malfoy, this show is about finding true love." Draco snorted laughter, but Donald ignored it. "We take a woman from your past, give her an extreme makeover and then make you and the other four men compete for her love- and you win money along the way," he added as an afterthought, knowing how much this man loved money.

"As you can plainly see, Mr. Clump, I have all the money I could possibly ever need," he said, motioning towards the fancy décor.

Ginny knew it was now or never. "Yes, Malfoy, you have all the money you need, but do you have a woman who truly loves you for you, and not for your money?" She crossed her fingers, hoping it worked.

Draco looked thoughtful for a second. "I’m quite happy without a woman who loves me. As long as I have hundreds of them adoring me and worshipping the ground I walk on, who needs true love?"

Ginny cursed under her breath. This was harder than she thought it was going to be. How do you bribe a man who cares only about women fawning all over him? She mentally snapped her fingers. "Malfoy, just think of all the Muggle women who will be glued to their television sets twice a week, gushing over how sexy you are, and how much they want you."

Draco poured another drink for himself and swirled it around it the glass, thinking. She was right! He could just imagine all those pathetic needy women willing to give him anything he wants just to get his autograph.

"Think of all the fangirls who will lie in their beds at night, pleasuring themselves while thinking about you…" Ginny knew she almost had him. "You’ll be famous, Draco; you’ll be every Muggle woman’s fantasy."

…………………………………………..

"Merlin that was easy!" Ginny laughed as they walked down the drive and out the gate.

"You were brilliant!" Donald said, "The way you used his arrogance to trap him! Once he got it in his head that every Muggle woman on the face of the earth would dream of having sex with him, he couldn’t say no!"

Ginny agreed. "That was pretty easy, but our next stop is going to be even easier."

"Oliver Wood, right?" He glanced at his watch. "It’s getting late, maybe we should wait until tomorrow when we know for sure he’ll be home.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Mr. Clump, you obviously don’t know Oliver. He’s never home, he lives at the Quidditch pitch! Which is where we’ll find him day or night." She grabbed his arm and together they Apparated to their next unsuspecting victim


	2. 2

  
Author's notes: Will Ginny be able to persuade the men to sign the contracts?  


* * *

A/N: A big thanks to Lupinswolfie for being my beta. Thank you for all your help!

When they arrived at the Quidditch pitch, the sun was almost down, and millions of crickets were competing to be heard over the frustrated screaming of Oliver Wood. He was winning.

“If Quidditch were easy, it would be called Ballet!” he yelled. “Now, move your arse and try to score!”

As Ginny and Donald looked up into the blackening sky, they saw someone from the team zoom by and throw a Quaffle with all their might. Oliver blocked it from going through the hoop very easily, and this made him break out in a string of angry insults.

“You flaming idiot!” he screamed. “My dried up old grandmother can score better than you!”

He flew over to the girl on the broom and she backed up, scared out of her mind. “Tell me why the bloody hell I’m here wasting my time trying to help you, when clearly you are a dim-witted, uncoordinated imbecile who…” He ran his hands through his sweaty hair in complete and utter frustration. “Women shouldn’t play Quidditch!” he barked. “I’ll never understand why…” He happened to look down, and seeing Ginny, he sped towards the ground at break-neck speed, coming to a graceful landing before he dismounted.

Donald looked at Ginny from the corner of his eye and muttered sarcastically, “Lovely chap. Great catch for any woman! Nutter.”

Ginny smirked. “He’s just a little stressed out right now.” He was walking towards her, managing to look even sexier than usual. She had always thought he was drop-dead gorgeous; he was a little crazy, but still one attractive piece of man.

Here he was, dirty, sweaty, flushed, his brown hair standing up every which way. Any normal man would look more than a bit disgusting, but he was… was every woman’s fantasy.

“A little?” Donald asked, mouth gaping slightly. “I hope that Miss Granger has more sense than to get involved with this one. Why, she would always come in second to his beloved Quidditch!”

“He doesn’t act like this all the time; he can be quite charming off the Quidditch pitch.” She gave Oliver a huge smile as he reached her. “Hey Wood! Giving Serena extra lessons, I see.”

Oliver frowned, turned and watched Serena head across the pitch to the showers. “Between you and me,” he said putting his hand on Ginny’s shoulder. “She stinks like bag of maggoty weasels. That girl needs to go or the team is going to suffer!”

“Oliver, you can’t get rid of her!”

“You’re only as good as your weakest player, you know!” he said, taking his hand away and seeming to notice Donald for the first time. He held out his hand in welcome. “Oliver Wood. And you are?”

The last thing Donald wanted to do was to place his own hand in the dirty, gloved one he was being offered, but if he insulted this man, he might never sign the contracts. “I’m Donald Clump. Pleasure to meet you, Mr.Wood. I’ve heard so much about you!”

“That’s why you’re here?” Oliver asked, his face brightening with pleasure. “I have a quill here someplace…” He started digging through his robes.

Donald knitted his plucked eyebrows together in confusion. He glanced over at Ginny, who rolled her eyes. “He thinks you’re here because you’re a fan of his and you want his autograph!”

“Want his…” Donald sighed in absolute indignation. What a self-centered, egotistical bastard! “I don’t want your autograph, Mr.Wood,” he chuckled. “What I want is to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

Oliver paused, quill in hand, looking both embarrassed and curious. “An offer? What kind of offer?”

“A Muggle game show where you, as a contestant, have a chance to find the woman of your dreams.”

Oliver snorted. “Muggle ga…? A woman? I don’t have time for a woman! In case you’re blind, I have a Quidditch team to get into shape and the last thing I need is some needy tart clinging to me every second of the day and night!”

Ginny put a hand on Donald, who was red-faced with anger and ready to leave. “Leave this to me,” she said. “Oliver, I know you don’t have any interest in love right now, but does a million Muggle dollars interest you?” she asked, slyly. “Just think! After changing that money in at Gringotts, you’d have enough to buy ten more Quidditch teams! Hell, you could even start your own league if you wanted to!”

Oliver’s face went slack, and both Donald and Ginny knew he was traipsing somewhere through a fantasy where he was hailed as the greatest Quidditch League owner in the world. They could almost hear the chanting of ‘We love Oliver Wood’ coming from inside his mind.

“Imagine all the top players vying for a place on one of your teams,” Ginny continued success within her grasp. “They would kill for a spot.”

He blinked and shook his head as if waking from a dream. His eyes were like giant brown marbles swimming in a glass of milk, and the way he was zoned out made Ginny think maybe he had gone daft or something.

“Well, Mr. Wood, what say you? Will you play our little Muggle game?”

…………………………………………….

“I think that boy is touched in the head,” Donald said, looking over his shoulder at Oliver as he once more took flight and practiced his Quidditch plays. “He gets on my nerves and I came so close to just leaving. Thank goodness I didn’t. My boss wouldn’t have been too happy. He is very adamant about getting Miss Granger to do this show.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I would have been fired for sure!”

“Probably,” Ginny said. “But he signed the contracts and we’re one man closer to the goal.” As they walked in the darkness, Ginny was struck by a question. “Donald?” she asked.

“Yes, Miss Weasley?”

“Who’s your boss?”

Donald stopped in his tracks, Ginny almost walking right into his back. “I don’t know who he is,” he said, turning towards her. “Miss Shanks and I were contacted by mail and asked if we would like a position in an up-and-coming television station. There was no name signed at the bottom, only a return address. At first, I was tempted to think it was a hoax, and I almost crumpled it up and tossed it into the fire.”

“But you accepted the offer?” she asked. “Even though you knew nothing of this man?”

“I needed a job and he paid me one hundred thousand dollars upfront to get this show on the air. If I fail, I have to give it all back.”

“You’ve already spent it, haven’t you?” Ginny asked, already knowing the answer. “You can relax, Mr. Clump, I can almost assure you that the remaining three men will sign the contracts. I can be very persuasive when I have to be.”

“So I’ve noticed,” he said with a grin. “So, shall we meet tomorrow morning at the residence of Mr. McLaggen?” He checked his watch. “Say at eleven?”

Ginny turned around to look once more at Oliver Wood, the moonlight flooding down on his body as he leaned forward on his broom and bolted through the night sky. “I have Quidditch practice in the morning and couldn’t possibly get away until one at the earliest.”

Donald frowned, thinking that if he ever heard the word ‘Quidditch’ again, he would scream. “Well then, we’ll have to visit all three men tomorrow. We’re on a schedule, and the sooner we get them to sign, the sooner we can get the show up and running.”

“I understand. I’ll see you tomorrow then?” She shook his hand warmly and then Apparated to the flat she shared with Harry, wondering if she should tell him what she was up to. She decided against it- for now.

……………………………………………..

Cormac McLaggen was sitting in a wrought iron chair on his back patio, searching through the Daily Prophet for a job- another job- his fifth job already this year. He was wearing clothes from the day before, his dirty blond hair was limp and greasy, and his teeth were yellow with plaque. He had been so busy wallowing in self-pity and thoughts of petty revenge that he hadn’t bathed in weeks.

He just didn’t understand why everyone was against him! Obviously he was the best at everything he did, so why was it that most of the time he had to inform his bosses of this very fact? Were they so dense that they couldn’t see his magnificence? He snorted, thinking of their angry faces every time he went against their wishes and did things his way- the right way. Of course, when they saw he was much better at their jobs than they were, they had to fire him to save face. He knew they were all just jealous, but it still was a pain in the ass having to find a damn job every other week!

Why did everyone he worked with have a problem with him telling them how things should be done? Couldn’t they see that his ideas were better than theirs? Morons! He thought of all the times he walked into a room and the whispering and laughing suddenly ceased. He knew people talked behind his back, hated him even, but it was only because they were all jealous!

“Dishwasher at the Leakey Cauldron, Guinea pigs wanted for experimental potions company, exotic dancers needed…” He folded the paper and slammed it down on the table. “What I need is my own business! That way, I can run things the way I want to- the right way.” He rubbed his hands together gleefully just thinking about it. “I’ll show them! I’ll show them all!” His company would be the best and most profitable in the entire wizarding world!

The grin slid from his face when he realized that in order to start his own company, he needed money, and lots of it, but where would he be able to get his hands on that kind of funds? He had no collateral, and his vault at Gringotts contained nothing more than a few Knuts and some stupid, paltry heirlooms his mother left him when she died. “Hmm,” he said, rubbing his stubbly chin thoughtfully. He prayed to whatever all powerful Supreme Being was out there to help him get what he wanted- what he deserved.

Just then, the answer to his prayers came strolling around the corner in the shape of a familiar ginger-haired woman and a pompous looking man wearing a Muggle suit.

………………………………………

“Merlin that man stunk!” Donald said as they were walking back around the corner. It had been very easy to get Cormac to sign the contracts, in fact he was almost jumping for joy at the prospect of showing everyone how superior he was and how easily he’d be the one to win the money. “I hope he burns those clothes and bathes for twenty-four hours straight before he shows up to start taping!”

Ginny was happily gulping fresh air. She had almost blacked out trying to keep from inhaling his putrid stench, and was very thankful he hadn’t taken long to convince him to sign. “I’m glad that’s over. One more second and I think I would have puked up my all of my internal organs.”

Donald laughed, totally agreeing with her. “Okay, time to be serious again,” he said, clearing his throat. “I take it we’re going to save your brother for last, so I guess we’re off to see Mr. Zabini?”

Ginny thought Ron would perhaps be the most difficult to convince, so she wanted to think about her approach a little more before she confronted him with the idea.

“What do you know about this mysterious Mr.Zabini?” Donald asked. “We tried to do a bit research on him, but came up with nothing. It’s like he left Hogwarts and then went into hiding or something.”

Ginny shrugged her shoulders. “All I remember about him was that he was a Slytherin, sort of a loner and hated Muggle borns with a passion.” She could barely recall what he looked like. “He never really bothered any of us, so we never gave him a second thought.”

“Well, since we don’t know what to expect, stay close to me and be on alert,” Donald said in a fatherly voice. “He might be some crazed psychopath for all we know.”

…………………………………..

“Wow!” was all Ginny could think to say. There, hidden in the creepy looking willows, among the scraggly and unkept lawn and over-grown gardens, stood what looked like a real haunted mansion. Its many broken windows stared out from the tan, stone structure like cracked openings to the very pits of hell, and even as they watched, pieces of the old house crumbled and fell onto the weed infested ground below. “Wow,” she said again, not able to tear her eyes away from the lopsided foundation. “Are you sure this is the right address?”

Donald opened his briefcase and after checking his paperwork, he said, “That’s what it says here.” He glanced around at the many fountains that were bubbling with foul smelling sludge and the once beautiful statues that now lay broken and covered in layers of bird shit. “What kind of person calls this home?” He had never been so disgusted in his life, and all he could imagine was Blaise Zabini looking something like a cross between a Goblin and deformed baby troll.

“I don’t know,” Ginny replied, pulling on his sleeve to make him follow her. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

Both pulled out their wands and headed for the front door. It was warped and hanging on rusted hinges. The doorknocker, which had once been a shiny, gold gargoyle head, was black with filth, so Donald wrapped his hand in his handkerchief before picking it up. He let it hit the door twice, and, when there was no answer, Ginny motioned towards the handle, silently telling him to try it.

It creaked on its hinges, the sound echoing through the gloom that waited for them on the other side. A sour, musty smell hit them in the face like a ton of bricks; it was like ancient mouse droppings and rotten milk.

“Stay behind me,” Donald whispered as they cautiously entered. “Hello?” he called into the darkness.

There was rush of air and someone yelled, “Incarcerous!” Ginny screamed as ropes suddenly bound her body, making her lose her balance and causing her to fall to the dirty floor, her wand rolling out of her reach. Donald fired off a spell into the darkness, which hit the far wall and shattered the only remaining intact window left on the house. “Shit!” she heard him say right before someone shouted “Petrificus Totalus!” There was a thud and he was lying next to her, immobile.

They lay there among the dust bunnies and the bugs that were scurrying away from the light coming in through the open door. Ginny’s eyes grew wide with fright as she heard the unmistakable sound of heavy boots coming towards her. She tried to wiggle her hand free and finally succeeded.

The tall figure stepped over her, his feet planted on either side. Crouching down, he stuck his face right down to hers. “What the hell do we have here?” Blaise asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, “Disease carriers or thieves who have come to steal my treasures?”

“Huh?” she said in obvious confusion. The last thing she ever expected him to do was accuse her of stealing treasure. By the state of his home, she had been sure he was totally poor, not harboring pots of gold in his cobwebby, dilapidated house. “I…”

He bent in closer, and suddenly recognition dawned on his face. “Weasley?” He stood up quickly, grabbing the ropes and violently setting her on her feet. “What the fuck are you doing in my house?” He let go of her and wiped his hands off on his robes, like they were infected from simply touching her.

“Untie me and I’ll tell you!” To her utter amazement, he complied, but not before taking a pair of expensive looking leather gloves from his pockets and pulling them on. He waved his wand and the ropes fell off. The second she was free, she knocked his wand from his hand and shouted, “Accio wand!” Her own wand whipped past his shocked face and landed in her hand; she quickly pressed it up under his chin. “Nice manners! Is this the way you welcome all your visitors, Zabini?”

“Only the ones who show up uninvited, sneaking around like sly foxes in a hen house.”

“Unpetrify my friend!” she said- not asking, but demanding, “Do it or I’ll kill you.”

He looked at her, hatred flashing in his dark brown orbs. “Now who has no manners? You break into my home with the intent to infect me or steal from me, and then threaten to do me in.”

“Release him now!”

“No! I knew you were poor, Weasley, but never in a million years would I ever expect you to become a cat burglar!”

Ginny was loosing all patience. “We are not here to give you cooties or take anything from you, you bloody paranoid dickhead!”

He blinked- twice. “You’re not?” he asked, bewildered. “Then why are you here?”

Ginny dug her wand tip deeper into the soft flesh under his chin. “Release him and I’ll tell you.”

He glared at her, silently contemplating whether she was trying to trick him or not. So many people had come to his home to try and take what wasn’t theirs- or worse, try to infect him with microscopic bugs that would make his penis shrivel and his stomach pregnant with some parasite that would eat from the inside out, why should he believe that these two weren’t the same?

‘But what if they’re here for a different reason?’ He was very curious as to what her explanation for her break-in was going to be. He decided to listen to her, and if he didn’t like what he heard, he’d kill her and her friend and bury their bodies in the cellar…with the others.

“Fine!” He released Donald from the spell, and Ginny lowered her wand, but still held it at the ready.

Donald thanked Ginny, picked up his wand and brushed the dust from his suit. “Mr. Zabini, my name is Donald Clump,” he said breathlessly, holding out his hand. Blaise looked at it like it was a putrid rotting cod he was being offered and not a hand. Donald raised his eyebrow at the strange man. “Aren’t you going to shake my hand?”

Blaise barely placed his gloved hand in Donald’s, and then took it back, wiping it disgustedly on his robes. “What are you and Weasley doing here?” he asked, his eyes positively glistening with suspicion and curiosity.

Ginny, seeing that Donald was insulted by the almost-handshake and ready to explode with anger, decided to take interrupt. “Blaise… may I call you Blaise?” she didn’t wait for an answer. “We have something urgent we need to speak with you about. Is there somewhere we could go?” She looked around, seeing only sheet-covered furniture that stood out in the gloomy room like an army of ghosts.

Blaise was really intrigued now. “I’ll give a few minutes of my time. Follow me and don’t touch anything!”

Ginny looked over at Donald, who was thinking the same thing as her: this man was completely off his rocker.

He led them up a rickety flight of stairs and down a dark hallway, the only light available was coming in from the broken windows and their lit wand tips. They were careful not to touch anything- not that they wanted to!

“Here we are.” Blaise said, stopping at a door that had some sort of giant combination lock on it, like a bank vault. “Turn around!”

They turned, listening to the combination spin a few times and then a loud ‘clunk’. They heard a sound like an airlock opening and a whoosh of warm, clean, fresh air spiralled around them, kicking up the dust from the floor.

“You can turn around now.” Blaise was standing in front of the entrance to a brightly lit room. From what they could see, it was all white- the walls, the floor, the furniture. The three of them stepped inside, the door closed, and Ginny screamed as panels of glass came suddenly down in front and back of them, trapping them like animals.

“What the hell is the meaning of this?” Donald demanded. “Shit!” he added, jumping in fright as a violent whirlwind of hot, medicinal smelling air surrounded them, making their hair blow back from their faces and their clothing stick to their bodies.

It stopped as suddenly as it began and the glass panels lifted, allowing them access to the blindingly white room.

“What was that?” Ginny asked, looking back over her shoulder as they followed Blaise inside.

“I had to disinfect you,” he said as if it was totally obvious. “You were probably crawling with infection.”

“Disinfect?” Donald asked. “Are you one of those people who are afraid of germs?”

“Germs, heights, deep water, large open spaces, cats, fire, bugs, sunlight and people with poor hygiene. Oh, yeah,” he added as an after though, “and sneaky thieves who want to steal my valuables!” He pointed towards another door. “Go ahead, open it.”

Ginny glanced at Donald, not sure if she should open it. What if it was booby-trapped? He gave her the go ahead and she walked slowly across the highly waxed white tile and turned the knob. As the door swung open, she couldn’t help but gasp. Inside were heaps upon heaps of Galleons, gold bricks, jewelry and beautiful pottery. Donald rushed over to have a look and was stunned.

“Clearly you had no idea about my treasure, so I believe you didn’t come here for that purpose. So, tell me, Weasley and Clump, what is it you want from me?”

Donald placed his briefcase down on the glass table top and clicked it open. “I have an offer you can’t refuse.”

……………………………………..

Three hours later, as they walked back down the weedy lawn, past the crumbling fountains and the over-turned statues, Donald spoke. “I don’t know, Miss Weasley. I thought that McLaggen character was a loon, but this man clearly has real psychological problems.”

“Well, you offered him some counseling, and he said he’d do it.” She was still in a daze, what happened in there a blur; Donald making the offer, and Blaise laughing his ass off. She had also asked him what had happened to make him so frightened of everything, and his heart wrenching story of losing his mother and his young wife to some mysterious disease. No wonder he had shut himself away, scared to death of catching something as paltry as a summer cold!

Then there was the incident when those thugs broke into his home, having heard of the ‘Zabini Fortune’ being hidden among the ruins. When he refused to tell them where it was, they beat the shit out of him and left him for dead. This was where his paranoia came from, and she didn’t blame him one bit.

“The way you handled him was very professional,” Donald said. “You got him to open up and to trust you.”

“I feel so bad for him,” Ginny said, on the verge of tears. “All he needs is someone to love him, to show him that he doesn’t have to be afraid anymore. I’m glad he agreed to do this, maybe it’ll be therapeutic for him.”

“I’m just nervous about how he’ll react if Miss Granger doesn’t pick him. He might just kill himself… or someone else.”

……………………………………

Ron was in the kitchen of The Burrow, making a sandwich, when there was a knock on the door. Being the only one home at the moment, he was annoyed that he had to go and answer it. He slapped the second piece of bread over his bacon, fried fish, cheese and hot sauce masterpiece and headed from the room, taking a huge bite. The visitor pounded louder, and Ron shouted, “I’m coming!” his mouth full of food.

He wrenched it open and froze. “Hermione?” he asked, trying to swallow the large bit of sandwich that was now stuck in his throat.

“Yes, it’s me, Ronald!” she snapped. “Can I come in?”

Ron shrugged. “I guess.”

Hermione looked over her shoulder, as if making sure she wasn’t being followed, and then rushed inside, slamming the door behind her. “Ron,” she said, taking him by the sleeve and pulling him onto the sofa. “You have to do me a favor.”

Ron shoved the rest of his sandwich into his mouth; it no longer tasted like heaven, but like sawdust. He knew all hell was about to break loose and there was no way to avoid it.

“There’s a man or possibly a woman who will be visiting you.” She watched him chew and then swallow. “They’re going to try to get you to…”

“If this is about the Muggle show, they’ve already been here, and I’ve already signed the contracts.”

Hermione jumped to her feet, grabbed the throw pillow and beat him about the head with it as hard as she could. “How could you do this to me?” she shouted, and after one last hit, threw the pillow to the floor. “Why the hell would you sign up to do a Muggle show?”

He flattened his messed up hair, and grinned up at her stupidly. “At first I told them, ‘no way!’ and then, well, Ginny was very persuasive!”

Hermione’s face fell. An angry pink blush was creeping up from her neck and slowly over taking her entire face. Ron picked up the pillow and put it over his head, expecting another beating.

“Ginny?” she asked out loud. “That sneaky little bitch!” Her mind was positively spinning. Her best friend as betrayed her, gone behind her back not once, but twice! She was going to kill her if she was somehow forced into doing this stupid reality show. ‘Oh, why did I sign those contracts?’ 

Hope lit her face as a thought hit her. “Did they say if you were the first person they talked to?” She prayed he was because then she could get to the others before Ginny had a chance.

Ron peeked out from under the pillow. “Well, as a matter of fact, they said I was the last. The others have already signed.” He quickly threw himself face down on the sofa and covered his head back up as Hermione’s angry screams echoed through the house.


	3. 3

  
Author's notes: The start of the show!  


* * *

A/N: Thanks to Lady Lynn, my Beta!

There was whooshing sound from the fireplace. Ron looked up from the blows raining down on his head, catching a fist to the jaw. "Speak of the devil!" he said, pointing behind Hermione. He rubbed his sore jaw as Hermione turned around and verbally attacked Ginny.

"How dare you go behind my back and work with the enemy you interfering witch!" she shouted, her hands on her hips and her head bobbing like a disgruntled chicken. "Some damn friend you are!" She reached out and pushed Ginny in the shoulder, making her stumble backwards a few steps. "Tell me, friend, how were you able to convince all those men to do the show? What did you offer them, huh? Sexual favors, you whore?" she pushed her again, daring her to do something.

Ginny had known this was coming, but was still unprepared for the outburst of downright dirty insults her usually calm and caring friend was hurling at her. "How dare you call me a whore?" Ginny spat, pushing Hermione in the chest with both hands.

It knocked her off balance and she struggled to stay on her feet, snatching a hold of whatever she could- which happened to be Ginny’s hair, and they both toppled onto the floor, rolling around, kicking, slapping and screaming.

Ron stood there in total shock, the hot sauce from his recently eaten sandwich rolling around in his gut. He plopped down on the sofa and held his stomach, moaning in pain, his face turning green.

"I hate you!" Hermione shouted, banging Ginny’s head into the floor. "Why the hell would you do this to me?"

Ginny managed to flip them over and she straddled Hermione, her head bent painfully to the side because her hair was still being pulled from her scalp. "I was only trying to help you, you cow!"

"Don’t call me a cow!" Hermione exclaimed, bucking her hips, trying to get Ginny off her. "You…"

Suddenly, a sound ripped through the air. It was like the world's largest pair of pants being split in the ass. The sound was explosive and the smell was noxious. Both girls stopped what they were doing and looked over at Ron with identical disgusted faces.

"Oh my fucking god!" Ginny said, slapping her hand over her mouth and nose. She rolled off Hermione and ran from the room, retching. Hermione sat up as Ron let out another toxic cloud, this one sounding like a trumpet and smelling like putrid skunk innards.

"Ron!" Hermione said, scrambling to her feet. "I don’t believe you!" She almost threw up in her mouth. "That is the most disgusting thing ever!"

"At least it stopped you from beating the shit out of each other!"

"Yeah, but you almost killed us in the process!" Ginny said, coming back into the room with a kitchen towel over her face. "What a way to go! Death by fart…" Ginny said, rolling her eyes as Ron suddenly jumped up and hauled ass to the loo, moaning about shitting his trousers.

The two girls looked at each other and burst out in hysterics. The second they realized they were no longer trying to kill one another and were actually sharing a good time, the laughter died and they looked around uncomfortably.

"You know, Hermione," Ginny said, "I only went along with Donald because he said if I were really your friend, I would do anything to make you happy, and he thinks… and so do I… that you need romance in your life. So what if you need a little help, that’s what friends are for, aren’t they?"

Hermione pulled out her wand, waved it around and the air once again became breathable. "Although I’m grateful that you wanted to make me happy, you didn’t have to sign me up for a butchering session and a lengthy stay with a group of psychologically damaged men who will only want me for my plastic bouncy boobs and my new long, shiny blond hair."

"Speaking of which," Ginny said carefully, "Donald and Myra will be at your flat in the morning to escort you to the clinic where you’ll have the surgery." Ginny saw her face go white as a sheet and tried to say something to make the situation better. "I can go with you if you want…"

All the air left Hermione’s lungs and the room went suddenly black. "I… I can’t go through with this, Gin," she said, "Um, tell them… tell them I’ve left the country- yeah, that sounds good! They’ll believe that- or will they?" She was babbling and shaking. "Maybe I’ll really leave the country. Go into hiding, somewhere where they’ll never be able to find me. I mean what are they going to do? Sue me? I’ll just disappear into the Wizarding world and that Myra woman won’t be able to find me…"

Ginny watched her friend wringing her hands and having a total nervous breakdown, knowing she was about to make matters worse. "Er, Hermione? There’s something I have to tell you."

Hermione slowly looked over at Ginny, praying that what she had to say wouldn’t add to the problem, but that was only wishful thinking. She knew deep down that the shit was about to hit the fan. "What, Ginny?" she asked, trying to remain calm.

"You might want to sit down." She watched Hermione take a seat on the arm of the sofa, and wondered if there was a way to soften the blow. Deciding there wasn’t, she just came out with it. "Those contracts you signed were not only legally binding in the Muggle world, but because Donald knew you were a witch, he made them magically binding as well. If you refuse to follow through, you’ll not only loose everything you have as a Muggle, but you’ll end up in Azkaban, and even though they refurbished it and made it more livable, it’s not someplace you want to spend the rest of your life."

Hermione closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and counted to ten. This was it. There was no escaping this stupid-ass show. She had to do it; there was no way out. This was all Ginny’s fault and there was no amount of apologizing or groveling that would ever make her forgive her. "When this is over, Ginny, you are going to stay away from me. I never want to see you or speak to you again. Our friendship is over."

"But…"

"Over," Hermione seethed through clenched teeth. "Tell Ron I’ll see him soon and that he had better watch out," she said cryptically, before turning to leave.

"Hermione…" Ginny said, trying to grab her arm, but Hermione twisted away and stalked from the house, slamming the door so hard it rattled on its hinges.

……………………………………………

THE NEXT DAY:

Hermione, looking haggard after tossing and turning all night, answered her door and led Donald and Myra inside. She saw much to her dislike that the photographer was tagging along. "You need pictures of me being taken away to the butcher shop?"

Myra, flashing those overly white teeth in a huge smile said, "No, no! We need before photos, and then we’ll take a bunch more after the surgery." She handed Hermione a gray sports bra and some spandex underwear. "Please put these on while Sam here sets up the backdrop for the photos."

Hermione looked at the grotesque knickers and then over at Sam the photographer who was leering at her like a pervert. "Are you saying that this man is going to snap pictures of me wearing only these, and that you’re going to show these pictures on the telly for everyone to gawk at?" Myra’s beaming face was answer enough. "No way. I am not doing this! I don’t care what you say!"

Donald cleared his throat, and with a Cheshire cat-like grin, held up a contract with Hermione’s signature clearly visible on the bottom. "Section three, paragraph four states that you agree to any photos we feel are necessary to…"

Hermione wanted to bust out her wand and hex the crap out of the smiling dynamic duo and the creepy molester/photographer, but knew it would solve nothing. They’d come after her, especially the guy who owned the station- whoever that was. "I’ll compromise. Let me pick out something more modest or at least better looking and I’ll gladly pose for you."

Myra thought for only a second. "I’ll agree to that, but you have to bring those garments with you. The after photo must show you wearing the same outfit.

"Will shorts and a tank top suffice?" Hermione asked, "I’ll even let you pick them from my closet yourself."

Myra looked around as if asking which way it was to her bedroom. She doubted this plain boring woman had anything nice in her wardrobe, and that would do nicely. She wanted the before photo to look as hideous as possible. Afterwards, she would look so sexy, it wouldn’t matter what she was wearing!

"Down the hall on the left." Hermione watched the excited former model stroll down the hall and disappear into her bedroom.

Sam was searching through his equipment. "Shit!" he said, "I forgot the extension cord! I’ll have to go back to the car and get it." He didn’t wait for a response, but took off out the front door.

Donald took this moment to speak alone to Hermione. "Miss Granger, I have something of great importance I need to speak with you about."

Hermione, who hated this sneaky bastard, rolled her eyes. "Oh,yeah? What is it now?"

"I received a letter from an anonymous owl telling me that there is a way for you to avoid really doing the plastic surgery."

"An anonymous owl?" Hermione was a bit intrigued, but thought it obvious who it was from. "It’s probably from Ginny trying to kiss my ass so I’ll be her friend again. After all, she is a witch and there are only a few of us who know about this show."

Donald pursed his lips in annoyance. There wasn’t much time and he needed to tell her. "Listen, they said to show you this." He pulled a glossy photo from his briefcase and held it up. It was a picture of a very attractive woman with long, smooth honey-colored hair, warm brown eyes and a gorgeous smile.

Hermione was struck by the resemblance- but that resemblance stopped at the face. The woman in the photo had cleavage she had only dreamed of, abs to die for and an ass like a peach. "Who… who is this?"

Donald let her take the picture form his fingers. "That is you."

"Me?" Hermione looked down at the sexpot woman again, and then back up at  
Donald in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"The anonymous person told me in the letter that he can make a supply of Polyjuice Potion from this woman’s hair, and that all you need to do is take it during the show so you won’t need to actually do the plastic surgery. The writer was very adamant about talking you into this, saying that it was important for you to remain your true self and to not change a thing for real."

"But it takes 30 days to brew the potion, how will it be done in time?" Was she seriously giving thought to doing this? The surgery was the thing she feared most and here was a way out of it. It was her only chance.

"We will only tape you going into the operating room. I’ll have to go in with you, so make sure you ask me in front of Myra, or I won’t be able to." He had already planned this out on the way over to her flat and was hoping she would go along with it. "I’ll stun the surgeons and the nurses, wrap your head and face in bandages and then bring them around. You’ll have to act as if you’re still unconscious for a few hours and then slowly come around, but act like your drugged or something."

"You’ve given this a lot of thought haven’t you?" Hermione said, the corners of her mouth curving up in a small smile. "You’re such a nice guy."

"Yes, well…" Donald felt suddenly uncomfortable. "Er, where was I? Oh, yeah. After we set you up in your private room, you’ll have to act as if you’re in a lot of pain. Slowly, we’ll remove the bandages and I’ll make fake bruising and swelling and whatever else, so the audience will be deceived. This part is all pre-recorded, so I can edit what I need to and maybe even fiddle around with the final product if I have to."

"And after a month, I’ll take off the final bandages and look like her?" She waved the photo in the air. "Sounds like a plan. I’m in. Make sure you do your part and I’ll do mine." They shook hands just as Sam came running back into the house and Myra appeared carrying a black tank top and shorts, complaining about ‘someone’s’ lack of fashion sense and love of cheap shoes.

……………………………..

ONE MONTH LATER:

"And now, we will remove the bandages!" The surgeon said, and slowly unwound the layers of gauze. The camera man zoomed in closer as Hermione’s new and improved face was revealed.

She had taken the Polyjuice Potion and was now the woman she was going to pretend to be for the next two months. Donald handed her a mirror and she gazed into it, seeing a stranger. She knew she had to make this good. "I… I can’t believe this is me!" she wailed, tears steaming down her face. "I look so beautiful!"

"Cut!" Donald shouted. "Miss Granger! You look wonderful!" he said, "Doesn’t she?" he asked the room full of people. They all agreed, coming over one by one to embrace her and tell her she looked marvelous. "Okay! Everyone out! Miss Granger needs to get ready for her ‘after’ photo shoot!" He gave her a wink and shut the door. "Myra will be in shortly to help with hair and makeup. She wants to take a few shots of you wearing an evening gown and looking all sexy. I’ll be back a little later."

Hermione, who had grown to like Donald over the past month, didn’t want him to leave. He was her only friend these past four weeks and they had grown pretty close; he was like the brother she never had- one that called her Miss Granger. "Where are you going?" she asked, putting the mirror down on the table next to her.

"I have my first meeting with the men today. I have to make sure they all show up and then I have to go over a few things with them. We start taping tomorrow night, you know!"

Hermione’s stomach was suddenly full of butterflies. Tomorrow night, she would have to face them. How would they react to her new look? Would they think she was pathetic to go to such lengths to win their affections? "I’m scared out of my mind, Donald," she said. "I hate not knowing what to expect."

"Trust me, Miss Granger, everything will be fine. You had all those lessons on how to be a sexy vixen, now put them to good use!" He walked over to the door and gave her one last warm smile before closing it and leaving her alone to examine her new body.

…………………………………………

The five men filed into the room and looked around for a seat. They all headed for different corners, wanting to avoid the others like the Plague. Only Malfoy stood, leaning on the window ledge like he was bored and this whole thing was just something to do on a lazy Saturday afternoon.

Cormac was glaring hatefully at Ron. Ron was shooting daggers at Malfoy, who was smirking at him. Oliver was glancing around at the others, wondering why such a strange group of men had been chosen, decided he didn’t care, and began to dream up new Quidditch plays in his head.

Blaise walked over to a wooden chair, took out a starched, white handkerchief and dusted off the seat, he then pulled out a plastic baggie from his pocket, dropped the soiled cloth inside and put it back into his pocket. As he turned to sit down, he happened to glance up and see all four men looking at him like he was insane. "What?" he asked, his arse hovering over the seat. "There might be all kinds of germs on this chair. Who knows who had their privates on here before me or what venereal diseases they could have had?"

There was bang and all eyes turned to the door as Donald strolled in. He placed his briefcase on the table in the middle of the room and pulled out a heap of files. "Gentlemen, if you recall, my name is Donald Clump and I’m the producer/director of this show, which means…"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I know there might be some people in this room who are so stupid they don’t know what a director does," he coughed Weasley’s name and then grinned at him, lifting his eyebrows in amusement as Ron’s face turned an angry shade of red. "But I, for one, am intelligent enough to know what you do."

Donald paused, wanting so badly to smack the arrogant look from Draco’s face. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy, but seeing as no one in this room- including you, was intelligent enough to actually read the contracts before signing them, there are a few things we need to go over." That shut him up.

"Everybody please take one," he said, handing out a packet of papers that were neatly stapled in the right hand corner. "The top sheet is a list of words pertaining to the Wizarding world that you are not allowed to utter during the taping of the show."

Oliver looked down and saw that ‘Quidditch’ was the number two, right after ‘Muggle’. "Sir, you can’t expect me to not say Quidditch for two months!"

"I have faith you can do it, Wood. If you have to, just use the substitute word that I’ve written beside it- Football." Donald saw they were all looking over the list, which had banned words such as Hogwarts, all of the school's houses, any magical establishment such as Gringotts, or the Leaky Cauldron. The words wizard, witch, wand, or any magical creature, potion, spell, curse or hex were not allowed. There was also to be no mentioning of any magical food, clothing or talk of Dark Wizards or magical people whatsoever. All in all, there were over a hundred banned words or phrases.

"Mentioning any of the items on the list is against the rules, and will result in punishment. Remember, you all start off the show with three thousand pounds each, and there will be many instances to increase your money over the course of the show. Every time you slip and say a banned word, we will take a way one thousand pounds from your winnings. If you have no money left and you utter a banned word, you will be removed from the show and taken to the Ministry to face trail for breach of a magical contract. We are taking this very seriously, gentlemen."

Oliver was in total shock. "There is no way I’m going to not be able to talk Quiditch for this amount of time! It’s like… like expecting Malfoy to not talk about himself for eight weeks and we all know that’s damn near impossible!"

Malfoy wasn’t going to take insults from a broomstick lover like Wood. "Shut your fucking mouth, Wood, before I permanently close it for you," he threatened, pulling out his wand.

"And that brings us to the next agreement. No wands."

Everyone in the room stood up and started yelling at Donald- except for Malfoy, who put away his wand and started to read the paperwork again. He wanted to be well informed of what to expect.

There was no way they were going to give up their precious wands for two months. Cormac went so far as to threaten Donald with an Unforgivable Curse should he try to take it away. Donald was seriously frightened for his life as the men started screaming and shoving at each other angrily.

"Let him go," Ron said, trying to pry Cormac from Donald, "before I hurt you!"

"I’m not afraid of you, Weasley!" Cormac shouted, elbowing him hard in the shoulder. "You freak of nature!"

"Don’t insult him!" Oliver said, stepping up. "What are you so angry about anyway, McLaggen? It’s not like you know how to properly use your wand!"

"Why don’t you go fuck your broom, Wood? We all know that’s the only action you ever get!" Cormac said, still fending off Ron’s attempts to pry his grip from Donald’s shirt.

"I’ll kill you for that, McLaggen!" Oliver said and jumped on him. Cormac managed to lift his leg and kick Oliver in the his chest, sending him plowing into Blaise, who started screaming about being contaminated and running around the room like a lunatic trying to wipe the germs from his clothing with his gloved hands.

"Shut the hell up!" Malfoy screamed at the top of his lungs. They all stopped and turned his direction, Cormac was still holding onto Donald’s shirt, his wand aimed in his face. "I’m trying to read for fuck’s sake! Have you no manners?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Look, you jackasses, it’s our own faults that we signed without reading. The man’s only trying to do his job, so leave him the fuck alone, sit down and let him finish, and we can get the show on the road!"

Cormac let go of a relieved Donald and they all headed back to their seats, grumbling and swearing under their breath, knowing Malfoy was right, but not liking it one bit.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," Donald said, smoothing the deep wrinkles from his dress shirt, and straightening his crooked tie. "Like I was saying before I was rudely attacked," he glared at Cormac. "I will confiscate your wands and keep them in a locked vault. You’ll get them back when you leave the show."

Ron, who had never even heard of a reality show before this, had a few questions. "Mr. Clump, how exactly does this show work? I mean what do we have to do?"

Donald smiled at him. "Great questions, Mr. Weasley, and I’ll be happy to answer them. First off, the name of the show is ‘Can You Feel the Love?’, and it will air twice a week. The show is about a woman from your past. Someone you all have in common, whether that be a former girlfriend, an enemy or just someone you were acquainted with at school. Only Mr. Weasley here knows the identity of this woman, but you will all find out soon enough." He cleared his throat and went on. "You will compete twice a week for private dates with her and for cash. The private dates are very important because she is the one who will ultimately choose who the winner is. The losers will get nothing, not even the money they earned while on the show."

"That doesn’t seem fair!" Cormac complained. "If I won it, I should be able to keep it!"

"The winner does not get the money the losers had to give up, but will only win the money he has earned. So the more competitions you win, the more money you get should she pick you as the final winner."

"Totally ridiculous!" Cormac said under his breath.

Donald made them turn to the next page. "As you can see, you will be staying under one roof, and there will be cameras recording every second of the day and night. In a few minutes, you will be taken to the back lot where the house sits and when the host tells you, you will rush in and claim a bedroom. The catch is- there are only four bedrooms. The one left out will have to share a room with the person who arrived at their room last."

Cormac’s eyes lit up. He knew he was the fastest out of the men, and he’s beat the shit of them all just to get to a room first. There was no fucking way he was going to share a room with any of these wankers!

"You have been provided with Muggle clothing, which is packed in luggage, labelled with your names, and is sitting right inside the foyer of the house. In the house, you will be responsible for cooking your own meals, washing your own clothing and cleaning the house."

"But I don’t know how to do any of those things!" Ron said in a panic. "My mum always did them for me, and then she always used Donald assured them that detailed instructions were printed on everything, and that after a few tries, they should catch on easily. "Turn the page, please."

"After you settle into your rooms, the host of the show will call you all to the sitting room where you will be introduced to the woman you will be trying to seduce."

Draco opened his mouth to ask a question but got nothing out.

"And before you ask Mr. Malfoy, no, she will not be sleeping in the house with you," Donald answered with a grin. "She will however, be there off and on throughout the day, and you’ll never know when she’ll show up."

Draco looked disappointed as he turned to the final page. Here he was thinking he’d use his charm to make the woman get into bed with him, and then she’d be sure to pick him.

"Everyday, each of you will visit the ‘confession room’, where you will be free to talk about whatever you want without the other men hearing you." Donald was giddy just thinking about this part of the show. He was so looking forward to hearing what these men had to say about each other and about Hermione. "The last thing is just a warning. You will under no circumstances put your hands on the woman without her consent, or try to bribe or force her in anyway to choose you as the winner. This will result in immediate removal from the show and charges will be filed. Do I make myself clear?"

The man all nodded in agreement. After all, none of them thought they’d have to resort to anything that underhanded to win.

"And now, gentlemen, hand me your wands, and I’ll take you to your new home!"

…………………………………………….

He led them from the building and onto the back lot, where a huge house stood surrounded by camera men. They were told to stand right in front of the steps. Donald scampered off and was replaced by an attractive man in his mid-twenties with short, light brown, slightly spiked hair; gorgeous, bright, blue-green eyes and a pearly-white smile. He was obviously the host.

Donald yelled for silence and then said, "We’re live on three… two… one!"

"Hello!" the host said, beaming. "Welcome to Can You Feel the Love!" There was some corny music playing that slowly faded out. "I’m your host, Brian Oceancrest!"

……………………………

Hermione sat in the control room, her palms sweaty with fear and apprehension. She studied the men that camera two was panning back and forth on. Ron looked frightened out of his mind, pale and shaky. Blaise was standing apart from the others looking around nervously; still fearful they might touch him and spread their germs to him. He had been receiving counselling, but was still in need a many more sessions. Cormac’s aggressive nature was already showing, and she could tell he was ready to fight to be the first one into the house. Oliver was standing in between Ron and Draco, biting his fingernails and shifting from foot to foot.

Her eyes fell on Draco and she leaned into the monitor to get a closer look. She hadn’t seen him for years, and was pleasantly surprised-and a little annoyed-to see that he had grown even more handsome and arrogant over the years. He had his hands in the pockets of his expensive trousers and was looking right into the camera, giving the viewers at home his most smoldering, sexy look.

……………………………

"And now, gentlemen, you may enter!" Brian said in his best announcer voice.

Cormac took off like a bat out of hell; flinging the door open and pushing the others out of the way. When Donald had said that their luggage would be right inside the foyer, he really meant it. There is was, in front of the doorway like a boobytrap. Cormac tripped over it and went flying across the floor. Ron and Oliver jumped over the obstacle and trampled over top of Cormac’s body, racing for the stairs.

Blaise, careful not to touch anything, skirted around the bags and headed slowly towards the hallway on the right. Draco went in last, taking his time and looking like the only civil one of the bunch. He glanced at Cormac lying prone on the floor, spead eagle and unconscious, and heard the thunderous pounding overhead of Ron and Oliver and watched Blaise take another white handkerchief from his pocket and try a door- which ended up being a closet.

Draco chuckled at his housemates, thinking them all morons. He strolled down the hallway to his left and opened the first door he came to. It was a spacious bedroom, decorated in black and white, and he claimed it for his own.

Cormac slowly came to. "Where the bloody hell am I?" he asked, struggling to his feet. He heard Ron’s joyous cries and suddenly realized he was supposed to be finding a bedroom. He spotted Blaise apprehensively attempting to open the last door down the hall and sped towards him, knocking him violently into the wall. He reached for the knob and opened the door. "Aha! I beat you to it, Zabini! It’s mine! All mine!" He danced around the room, cackling like a loon.

Oliver Wood appeared in the doorway, an amused grin plastered on his handsome face. "Er… McClaggen? Don’t you mean it’s all yours- and Zabini’s?"

Cormac’s dancing came to a sudden halt and he looked over at Oliver and Blaise. "What?"

"You were the last one to find a room, so you have to share it with Zabini!"

Cormac’s face turned twenty different shades of red in under five seconds. "I am not sharing a room with the paranoid fucking germaphobe! He’ll be spraying disinfectant all over the damn place and I’m allergic!"

"You have no choice," Oliver said. "It’s the rules, McLaggen."

Blaise stepped into the room. "You will be sneezing into a tissue and washing your hands every half and hour, won’t you?" he lifted the bed covers on his bed and eyed the sheets warily, looking for bedbugs. "I ask you not to touch anything that I might touch, and if you must, I have some disinfectant wipes for you to wipe it down when you're done."

Cormac stomped from the room, Oliver’s laughter following behind him.

………………………………..

An hour later, they heard a voice throughout the house asking them to go to the sitting room. They all took a seat and watched as the huge television screen that was mounted on the wall suddenly came on, showing Brian Oceancret’s super sexy smile.

"Gentlemen, now it is time to introduce you to your soul mate… the love of your life… the woman who holds your heart, your fate, and your money in her hands…"

"Oh, my god…" Oliver said as Hermione’s before picture came up on the screen. To say it was an unflattering photo was an understatement.

"Granger?" Malfoy asked in shock.

"Why would I want her?" Cormac said. "I dumped her a few years ago. Been there, done that. Biggest waste of my time…"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "I think it was her that dumped you…"

"This, gentlemen, was the woman you knew from before… plain, boring, bookish. Now, may I introduce you to the new and improved… Hermione Granger!" They all turned around as the front door opened, and her heels clicked their way across the foyer and towards the room.


	4. 4

  
Author's notes: the men just can't seem to get along! Hermione introduces the first challenge.  


* * *

Harry and Ginny settled on the sofa in front of the television that Harry just had to have. There were a few Muggle things he would never give up and the telly was one of them.

"I can’t believe she’s really doing the show!" Harry said, picking up a giant bowl of popcorn, and shoving a handful into his mouth. "I figured she would have gone straight to the Ministry and looked through every law book until she found a way out of it."

"Believe me, Harry, there was no way out, Mr. Clump made sure of that." Ginny sighed, picking up a piece of salty popcorn and popping it into her mouth, letting it melt on her tongue a little before chewing. "I just wish she wouldn’t have reacted like she did. I mean, I was only trying to help her. You’d think she would have been down on her knees thanking me!"

"Thanking you for what?" Harry asked incredulously. "For forcing her to spend the next two months in the company of five men she can’t stand? Do you honestly think that somewhere in that group of losers is the man for her?"

Ginny frowned, twirling a piece of her hair around her finger very fast, getting agitated that Harry just didn’t see things her way. "There are a few of them that are husband material…"

Harry almost choked on his snack. "There are?" he asked, his eyes watering. He reached for his drink and took a gulp. "Like who?"

"I don’t know…" Ginny said, blushing. "Oliver Wood is pretty nice…"

Harry noticed her blush, and the way her she was looking everywhere but directly at him. "You have a crush on him, don’t you?" He thought it extremely funny that his girlfriend was lusting after a man who was either a homosexual, or had many a private rendezvous in a dark closet with his broom. Images of Wood with his Quidditch pants at his ankles, bent over thrusting against his broom handle moaning ‘That’s it baby! Oh, you’re so hard for me!’ made him bust out laughing.

"Why are you laughing?" she just about shouted. "I see nothing funny!" She put her knees up to her chest and hugged them, pouting like a school girl.

"Ginny…" Harry started to say, still chuckling a little. He was interrupted suddenly by a crowd of people who Apparated into the middle of the room, carrying snacks and drinks and talking extremely loudly.

"Harry, dear," Molly said, spinning around, looking for a place to sit her huge bowl of treats. "It hasn’t started yet has it?"

"In about a minute or so. Just sit that over there on that table," he said, gesturing in the direction of the table. He smiled as Arthur strode across the room, got to his knees and studied the television set, trying to figure out how it worked.

"Amazing!" he said, pushing the channel and volume buttons.

Percy grabbed a plate of food and quickly took his seat. Bill and Fleur sat on the floor, spreading out a huge display of toys for Teddy and Victoire. George and Angelina sat on the loveseat, holding hands, a shiny new engagement ring on her finger.

"Oh, look! It’s starting!" Molly shrieked, quickly conjuring a chair and sitting down. "This is so exciting!" she said, leaning forward. "I just hope Ronald behaves himself and doesn’t get into any arguments, and I really do hope he remembers to take a bath every night…"

"Mum, this is Ron you’re talking about," George said, rolling his eyes. "He’ll spend the whole two months fist fighting with Malfoy, and he’ll only take a bath because he wants to impress Hermione. He thinks he can get her back!"

Anger flashed in Molly’s eyes. "She had better not take him back," she seethed. "I don’t care if he is my son! What he did to her was unforgivable!"

"Molly," Arthur said, having to once again stick up for his son. "Ron apologized to Hermione. He made a mistake, everyone makes mistakes. It was an accident."

"An accident? Are you telling me, Arthur Weasley, that you think Ron’s clothes ‘accidentally’ fell off, that he ‘accidentally’ fell into bed with that woman, and his penis ‘accidentally’ popped into her vagina?"

Harry, once again, choked on his popcorn.

"Shh!" Ginny said loudly and they all looked up into the bright screen as the host, Brian Oceancrest, explained how the show worked, and photos of the ‘before’ Hermione, and her surgery, came up on the screen.

"Those are awful! She must be so embarrassed!" Angelina said, gaping at the screen.

"In a moment," Brian was saying, "We will meet the new Hermione Granger!" He flashed his pearly whites, and turned slightly to the left. "But first, we will show our lucky men their new home!"

The camera panned over to the men who were standing on the front steps of a huge house.

"Look, Ginny!" Harry said, elbowing her in the ribs. "There’s your lover boy, Oliver Wood!"

George looked up, shocked. "What’s he talking about, Ginny? Have you been screwing around with Wood?"

"No!" Ginny snapped, "Harry seems to think that I have the hots for him, which is just totally not true!"

On the screen, the men turned and stampeded over each other and into the house. They showed Ron and Oliver pushing the hell out of each other in the upstairs hallway. Oliver tripped Ron and then hurtled over his body, rushing towards a door. He turned it, swung it open, plunged inside, and then after sticking out his tongue at a furious Ron, slammed the door behind him. They cut to Draco walking calmly to his room, and then to Cormac, who got to his feet and ran for the hall.

"Yeah right!" Harry said, amused "You llooooooooovvvveee him. You want to kiss hiiiiimmm." He made loud kissing noises.

"I do not!" she lied.

"Then why are you blushing?" Bill asked with a grin.

"I’m not!"

On the show, Blaise, Cormac, and Oliver where arguing. Cormac stormed from the room and they went to commercial.

"I don’t think there’ll be room for you AND his broom in the bed!" George laughed.

"Just shut up!" Ginny shouted. "I DON"T like him!"

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"DO NOT!"

"This argument is stupid and a waste of time," Percy said from the corner chair, not looking away from the screen. The show came back on after only two commercials. "Even if Ginny does like him, he’s not going to like her back- Hermione either for that matter." He was watching as the men on the show gathered in the living room, looked at the ‘before’ photos of Hermione with distaste, and then turned as her heels clicked across the floor.

"And why not?" Molly asked in a huff. "If he thinks he’s too good for …"

"Because," Percy said impatiently, "He’s already engaged."

………………………………

Hermione grabbed the door handle with one shaky hand, took a huge gulp of air which did not calm her nerves, and prayed that she wouldn’t throw up. She looked over her shoulder at Donald, who gave her a warm, encouraging, smile and a thumbs up. With one last deep breath, she turned the handle and stepped inside.

It was dead silent and the click of her black heels echoed loudly in her ears as she walked past the camera men and towards the room where her destiny awaited. She glanced at the paintings and the furnishings along the way without really seeing them. She would have plenty of time to study them in the coming weeks.

Pausing only a second to make sure her red, strapless, dress wasn’t rumpled and her hair was in place, she stepped into the room as Brian said, "May I introduce you to the new and improved, Hermione Granger!"

…………………………….

"Wa…?" Ron said in utter disbelief. He was stuck comically halfway between sitting and standing, his eyes like huge saucers, his mouth opening and closing silently, making him look like a moronic chimp. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever thought Hermione could ever look this good. She was totally hot now, not all boring and prudish, and he decided to double his efforts to win her back. They had history, it shouldn’t be to hard to talk his way back into her life- and get some money in the process!

Cormac did a double take. He had not expected her to look any different than before and here she was, standing in the doorway like a sexy, half-naked super model. He licked his lips as his eyes ran over her luscious curves, imagining all sort of perversions. He had only come here for the money, but if he could get the girl too, then so much the better!

Oliver stood up and actually started towards her before stopping himself. She was beautiful! That long, smooth, dark-blond hair; those sparkling brown eyes with the dark black liner and thick lashes; that golden tanned skin; and those long sexy legs that went all the way to… his pants were tenting up just thinking about where those legs ended! He had to have her. What about…

Screw his fiancé! She thought he was out of town for two months scouting for the team. There was no way she would ever hear about him being on a Muggle show. He was free to pursue Hermione because he knew no one even expected that he had a girlfriend, let alone a fiancé! He could have one final tryst with a sexy goddess before tying the knot. Hell, it shouldn’t be too hard; he was the best-looking man in the house! Plus, all that money could go to pay for the wedding, and he’d have plenty left over to buy another Quidditch team!

Blaise looked her over. ‘Very clean appearance. Nice manicured nails- no dirt under them. Hair looks recently washed. Smells nice- like lemons. Reminds me of cleaning supplies…’ He thought she might have a few germs, but nothing life threatening. He might even be able to shake her hand without his gloves on. Then again… maybe not. What if she was on her period and didn’t wash her hands after changing her tampon? Her blood could be contaminated with all sorts of infectious diseases. He didn’t want to risk it!

Draco leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest, refusing to get all excited and turned on by a fake woman- no matter how attractive that fake woman was. He knew underneath all those layers of makeup, the shiny blond tresses, and the gorgeous body lay the same plain, boring, Granger who loved books, being a know-it-all and freeing house-elves. The same Granger who hated him with a passion…

Why make a spectacle out of himself? He knew sooner or later, if he ignored her enough, she would come crawling to him.

……………………………….

Hermione stood there, a fine layer of sweat breaking out over her entire body. They were all leering at her like she was a piece of meat- everyone, that was, except for Draco Malfoy, who wasn’t even looking her way. He was looking at the floor almost defiantly, as if saying to her ‘I don’t give a shit if you’re hotter than a horny Veela on a mid-summer evening, you’re still the same old ugly Granger and not worth my precious time!’

He was determined to ignore her and that made her even more determined to make him notice her. She ignored the other drooling men and walked towards him using everything she learned in charm school about swaying her hips alluringly. One step away from him, her heel slipped, she twisted her ankle and fell right into his lap- hard, her head smashing into his chin.

There was a collective gasp from the room. Brian Oceancrest snorted laughter and the cameras zoomed in excitedly. In the control room, Donald smacked his palm into his forehead. "What a way to start the show!" he said, scanning the monitors in front of him.. "Camera two!" he shouted into the headset. "Head shot of the both of them! Three, get the long shot. One, pan the room. I want the reactions of the other men, and get that boom out of the shot!" he screamed. "Get Oceancrest off his ass and get him talking! Isn’t that his damn job? Come on people, we're live here, no room for mistakes!"

……………………………………

Hermione rubbed her head painfully; it felt as if her skull had been cracked open like a walnut. "Oh, my head…"

"Your head? What about my balls, Granger?" I think you sterilized me!" Draco said, shifting under her and wincing. "I thought that maybe part of the makeover would be for you to lose some weight.”

She opened her eyes, and was looking directly into his pale gray ones. She had never, in all the years she had known him, been this close to him. She was startled to realize how pretty his eyes really were, how smooth his skin looked, and how totally kissable his lips were…

Draco was momentarily unable to look away; he was lost in her eyes- those liquid brown pools that reminded him of sweet, smooth, chocolate pudding. He was suddenly aware that she was still sitting in his lap, and the pain of his crushed balls was immediately replaced by something else entirely.

Praying she didn’t notice his growing affection, he almost moaned out loud when she suddenly got wide-eyed and hurriedly tried to get up from his lap, grinding her ass into his erection in the process.

It wasn’t the fact that Draco was getting a hard-on, even though she definitely could feel it, but the fact that Hermione herself was getting turned on, that made her jump from his lap like someone had just pricked her with a pin. She hated herself for what she was feeling. This was Draco Malfoy for God’s sake! She loathed him and he hated her. Why were they getting turned on then? ‘Disgusting!’ she thought. ‘Am I so desperate for some sex that just sitting in the lap of my childhood enemy is enough to make my juices flow?’

……………………………..

Back at Harry’s flat, everyone was speechless. Even though Hermione had only been in Malfoy’s lap for a minute, everyone in the room could sense the sexual attraction. It was shocking to say the least. They all looked around at one another, and then back at the television.

…………………………….

Brian heard the screaming from Donald and jumped into action. "Well, folks, it already looks as if she has FALLEN for one of the men!" His attempt at humor made not only the people in the room groan, but the viewers at home as well. He flashed his winning smile and his cute-ness more than made up for his lack of humor. "Hermione, if you’ll just greet the other contestants…" 

Hermione had never been so humiliated in her life. She knew her face was red-hot and could only imagine all the people who were laughing at her. Pretending to care about smoothing the wrinkles from her dress, she took the opportunity to get her emotions in check and to concentrate on just getting through the rest of the hour. Then she could go back to her room and cry like a baby.

"Hello, Oliver!" she said, holding out her hand. She couldn’t help but glance over at Draco from the corner of her eye. He was arrogantly smirking at her, just like old times. "You’re looking very handsome."

"And you look simply beautiful!" Oliver took her hand and then pulled her into a tight embrace, crushing his body against hers.

Draco rolled his eyes, thinking Wood a pathetic fool.

Ron was furious. First the putrid display between Malfoy and his girlfriend, and now Oliver Wood was all over her! It was unacceptable. "Get your hands off my girl, Wood," he said, prying Hermione from Oliver’s clutches. She shook him off and stepped aside, sensing a fight was about to break out.

"Your girl?" Cormac said, stepping up to him angrily. "I seem to recall you cheating on her with someone named Bambi, and then I think I heard she dumped your stupid ass!"

"You have no idea what you’re talking about McLaggen, so I suggest you get out of my face before I punch you in yours!" He pushed Cormac in the chest, making him stumble into Oliver, who shoved him back into Ron.

"Both of you are delusional if you think she’s going to pick you!"

Oliver grinned devilishly at him. "Oh, yeah? You think she’ll pick you? A man who bathes once a year and has moss growing on his teeth? You smell like a crate of dead cats and you look like a fucking bum!"

There was a pause and then Cormac screamed and attacked Oliver. Ron jumped on Cormac’s back, punching him in the back of the head. Fists were flying as well as insults, and Donald was having a hard time back in the control room trying to bleep them out in time.

Brian Oceancrest just leaned on the mantle, watching the sight unfold before him. "This is going to be great for ratings!" he said with a nod.

Blaise stood up and tried to stop the fight. "Come on now! Stop acting like children and…" Cormac spit in his face, making Blaise furious. "How dare you spit at me! If you’ve given me some nasty disease, I’ll fucking kill you!" He wiped the spittle from his face, pulled his gloves on tighter and jumped into the fray.

Hermione glanced around; noticed Draco was just sitting there looking amused, and plopped into the seat next to him. After watching Ron bite Cormac’s ear, she turned thoughtfully to him. "Funny how you’re the only mature man here. I never would have expected that."

He gave her a lazy smile that made her heart skip a beat. "We all have to grow up sometime, Granger. I just decided to do it before old age set in." They both jumped as Oliver was thrown into corner table, knocking over a vase full of lilies that shattered as it hit the floor. "So, how’ve you been?" he asked her. "Still working at the Ministry?"

There was ringing noise and much to Hermione’s astonishment, Draco pulled a cell phone from his pocket and looked at it. "Excuse me, I need to take this." He got up and left the room, skirting around the fighting.

‘Why the hell does Draco Malfoy have a Muggle phone?" she wondered. ‘How very odd!" curiosity got the better of her and she got up and went to the door, straining to hear what he was saying over the fighting. There were no cameras rolling in the hall, just the ones that were mounted in the corners, and they weren’t activated until later tonight, so he was alone.

"Really?" he was saying. "That’s great news!"

She watched him pace back and forth, and couldn’t help but think how absolutely handsome he looked as he raked his fingers through his pale hair, and smiled into the phone.

"Call her and tell her to let him know!" He had his back to Hermione and she had to strain even harder to hear him. "Oh, and this is the last time you’ll be able to contact me on this mobile. I’m trusting you to take care of affairs while I’m here, just keep an eye on things and go through her to relay any information." He laughed lightly, the sound carrying through the hall. "It’s going great so far. I’ve actually gotten to speak with her, and I think I made a good impression."

There was a short pause and he started to turn around. Hermione ducked her head back inside. "No, no one suspects a thing!" He laughed again, "Yes, I’ll see you in a few weeks."

He put his phone away and Hermione hurried back into the room where she sat back down, trying not to look suspicious. How very mysterious he was! Who had he been talking to and what didn’t anyone suspect? 

……………………………

Donald had had enough. "Cut!" he screamed. "Go to commercial!" As soon as the ad started, he ripped the headset from his aching head, and threw it onto the counter. What a disaster! He was sure he was going to get a call from his boss at any minute, telling him they were being fined for all the swearing he didn’t have time to bleep out.

"Mr. Clump?" said a small female voice off to his right. "Miss Shanks on line one."

Donald took a deep breath and picked up the receiver. "Tell me something good," he said.

"Our ratings are through the roof, Don!" Myra shouted excitedly. "The boss contacted me though a third party to tell me we’re a hit!" 

…………………………..

Brian turned and smiled into the camera as it zoomed in on him. Mr. Clump had screamed that they were cutting to commercial so they could get the situation under control. "While our contestants battle to see who is the most worthy suitor for Hermione, we’re going to take a short break…" Somewhere off camera, glass was being broken, and the noise of it shattering reached the microphones. "We’ll be right back after these messages!" 

……………………………

When the show came back on, all the men were seated and silent, but still looking murderous. Cormac was sporting a fat lip and a black eye, and Oliver had a huge scratch down the side of his right cheek. Hermione was standing in the middle of the room with Brian, who had his arm around her.

"Welcome back to Can You Feel the Love!" he said, beaming. "The men have calmed down and agreed to a truce," there was grumbling from a few of them, "and now they’re ready for their first challenge!" He walked to the door, Hermione trailing behind. "To the kitchen, men!"

They followed him, taking care to avoid one another, and ended up in a huge, brightly lit kitchen. On the island in the middle of the room were tons of ingredients, measuring cups, mixing bowls, pots and pans, and bakeware. Ron picked up a raw chicken leg and held it up, panic evident on his face.

Hermione, already knowing what she had to say, having memorized the lines the day before, said, "I love a man who can cook!" She really could care less if a man could poach an egg or not, but that’s what they wanted her to say. "For your first challenge, you must cook for me." She almost laughed at the petrified faces before her. She doubted any of them have ever even made a piece of toast before, let alone an entire meal!

"The man who can whip up the best meal in twenty minutes will not only win ten thousand pounds, but have the pleasure of accompanying me to a secluded, romantic, location where we will dine on expensive food and drink expensive wine- and maybe, if you’re lucky, taste my forbidden fruit…" she hated that last line, but she said it in the sexiest voice she could muster and mentally rolled her eyes. "So, if you can stand the heat, then you just might win the treat!"

"I have a surprise for you men!" Brian said, the joy and excitement oozing from every pore. "We have a special guest judge!" They all turned as the kitchen door swung open and in stepped a mean, bitter-looking, British man. "May I introduce the famous Chef Jordan Samsey! Owner and Head Chef of Hell’s Dining Room!"

Chef Samsey grinned maliciously at them. "Well? What are you waiting for, you donkeys? Get your fucking asses moving! Now!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

There was the sound of clanging pots and pans and the men jumped into action…


	5. 5

  
Author's notes: It's challenge time!  


* * *

Draco glanced calmly around, saw what was on the counters, picked up a giant pan, and filled it with water from the tap and went to one of the three stoves. He turned on the burner and placed the pan on the stove. He then decided to watch the other men fumble around like total idiots while he filled a small bowl with ice cubes and cold water. He chose some nice fresh basil and went to work chopping it, almost cutting off his finger when he saw what Oliver Wood was doing.

After standing there for over five minutes, Oliver went over to the vegetables, cut a few stalks of celery and then opened a jar of crunchy peanut butter. After smearing it on the celery, he grabbed a handful of raisins and placed them in a straight line down the entire length of the stalks. 

Draco watched as Oliver then placed them on a serving plate, covered it with the dome lid and then took a seat. "What an idiot!" he said, shaking his head. He chuckled as he glanced around. After seeing Ron though, he decided that perhaps Wood was a mental giant in comparison.

Ron was standing in the middle of the kitchen holding a rolling pin in one hand and a can of spinach in the other. The look of panic on his face was so comical that Draco wished he had a camera. 

"Oh, God! How do I open this?" Ron said, turning to Blaise, who was dumping whatever he could grab into a casserole dish- including vanilla pudding, unpeeled shrimp, corn and pepperoni.

"I don’t know, Weasley! Try smashing it open with that thing-a-ma-jigger you’re holding!" Blaise shouted, laying a bunch of sausage links on the top of his casserole. He thought he had once seen a house-elf put some kind of food in the bottom of the stove-thingy, so he opened the oven door and shoved his dish inside. Knowing it needed fire to cook, he frantically searched for a way to light it. "Ah ha!" he said, spotting the oven knob. He turned it all the way and stood up just as…

Ron sat the can down on the counter. Lifting the rolling pin high over his head, he brought it down with so much force that it exploded, splattering himself and Blaise with green spinach puree. Blaise picked up a kitchen towel with little strawberries on it, and started to clean his face, telling Ron that certain death was in his future.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you a moron?" Jordan Samsey screamed at Ron. "Clean yourself up and get your idiot ass moving. You only have 10 minutes left!"

Ron wiped the spinach from his face with the back of his hand, swearing at Jordan under his breath. He looked around at the counter, saw some raw chicken and an empty frying pan. He slammed it onto the stove top and turned the gas burner to high.

"If you’re making fried chicken Weasley, you’ll need some oil," Cormac said with an evil grin. He had been cooking since he was a child and now he was going to use his knowledge of fine cuisine for evil. "After it heats up, throw in a cup of cold water and then put in the chicken."

Ron had no time to wonder why this asshole was helping him. All he cared about was that he had only a few minutes left to make the best meal and win the competition. He poured the entire bottle of vegetable oil into the pan, and it immediately began to smoke because the frying pan was so hot.

"In a second, add the water!" Cormac shouted as he ran back across the kitchen and went to work on the finishing touches of his masterpiece of a dinner that was sure to win him the prize. 

Draco added his spaghetti to the boiling water and dropped in some tomatoes for a second. He took them out and placed them into a bowl of ice water. He peeled them and started to crush them into a sauce just as…

Ron poured the water into the pan, sending the oil bubbling and cascading over the top, where it fell onto the burner, sending black smoke and flames shooting towards the ceiling- and his face. "Holy fucking shit!" he screamed, as his eyebrows and hair went up. "I’m on fire! Help! I’m melting!" He started running around the kitchen; Oliver jumped over the table and ran to the sink where he started to fill a pan with water. 

"Oh, my God! Someone help him!" Hermione screamed. She rushed forward, heading for the very large fire extinguisher in the corner. The camera men were stumbling over one another to get the shots that Donald was giving them, and Chef Jordan Samsey was shouting obscenities over the blaring beeping of the smoke detectors. No one noticed Cormac, who was placing his food and humming merrily as if none of the chaos around him was going on.

Blaise dropped the kitchen towel and tried to beat the flames out with his hands. "Hold still you stupid bastard, you’re making it worse!" He slapped at Ron’s head, trying to beat the fire out, but only managing to set his gloved hands on fire. "Shit! Fucking hell!" he said, prancing and waving his hands around like he was beating off a pesky bee. Oliver slid across the floor and threw a huge pan of freezing water on them, dousing the flames and drenching the both of them.

"The curtains!" Brian Oceancrest yelled, "The curtains are on fire!" He tripped over a cable from a light stand in his haste to run from the house like a chicken-shit bastard, and went sprawling, sliding across the wet floor, landing in a heap next to the door, where he smacked his head and passed out. The light fell over and crashed to the floor, sending sparks and hot glass flying everywhere, someone screamed that the house was going to burn down and they were all going to die.

"For fuck’s sake, someone turn the damn burner off!" Draco said, racing over. He snatched up the towel Blaise had dropped, stuck his hand through the fire and managed to turn the stove off, but the pan was still shooting a pillar of fire into the smoky air. He started beating the stove and curtains with the towel, but it was only making it worse.

He was coughing and going deaf from the damn alarm, so he didn’t notice when Hermione run up next to him and aimed the huge extinguisher. The pressure was so intense that she could barely hold onto it. Her arm kicked back and the foam sprayed out all over, covering her and Draco, making them look as if they had just lathered themselves up for a full body shave. 

They looked at each other for a brief, shocked second, and then they started laughing hysterically, holding onto each other like they were intimate buddies or something.

The fire was out, everyone was safe and it was at that exact moment that the sprinkler system went off.

……………………………

Donald yelled to cut to commercial, ripped off his headset and headed for the house. "What a fucking mess!" he said, walking inside the kitchen. "How the hell am I supposed to fix this before we go live again, huh? It’s raining in here for God’s sake!" He looked around at the soaked and singed Blaise and Ron, the foam covered Hermione and Draco and the unconscious host by the door. "We have B Roll, right?" he said, grabbing the headset from a camera man and shouting into it. "Stevens!" he yelled to his editor. "We need to find some pre-recorded footage to take up some time until we can get this under control!"

"But sir! We only have a few minutes until…"

Donald was about to have a full fledged hissy fit in front of the cast and crew. "God damn it Stevens! I don’t care how long we have. Don’t you understand? If I don’t get this taken care of and running smoothly again, I’m going to get fired, and do you know what that means, Stevens?"

There was a moment of silence and then Stevens answered back, his voice small and unsure. "That I’ll get fired too, sir?"

"You’re damn straight, Stevens. Now get the footage ready. I’m on my way back to the control room, and it better be ready to roll!" He tossed the headset back and turned to address the room. "I need a table set up on the back lawn! Someone help these people get cleaned up, and have their meals ready to present in ten minutes!" He swept towards the door, stopping at the body of Brian. "And somebody wake Oceancrest up!" 

………………………….

Back at Harry’s flat no one spoke until the commercial popped up, and then everyone began talking at once.

"Did you see…?"

"…Ron is an idiot!"

"I can’t believe…"

"…almost died!"

"…Draco tried…"

"He looks so…"

"If it wasn’t for…"

"…funny when the sprinklers…"

Harry excused himself and went to the loo. Was everyone blind? Did they not notice how cozy Hermione and Draco seemed with each other? First there was the conversation on the sofa, and then the foam thing where they were hanging on one another giggling like love sick puppies! She wasn’t supposed to fall for Malfoy! She was supposed to get back together with Ron. 

He closed the door, unzipped and took a piss, wondering all the while if maybe everyone but him had gone temporarily insane. Malfoy was a prick and no matter how charming he may seem on the show, he was always going to be a prick! He was just acting so nice to Hermione because he wanted to win the money. Harry shook off, zipped up and flushed. 

His mind wandered as he walked back into the room. It had to be the money; it couldn’t be that he wanted Hermione- but what would he need the money for? He was filthy rich. Could it be that he needed help finding a girlfriend and he’s so desperate that he’d settle for someone even if it is Hermione? No, that couldn’t be right… but then why…

"Harry! Hurry up! It’s coming back on!" Ginny yelled.

They were showing clips of interviews with Hermione. She was discussing the men, telling Brian how she knew each one and what she thought of them. "I’ve always thought Oliver Wood was a gorgeous man. He was always a little crazy about sports, but a very nice man nonetheless." 

A stunning picture of Oliver, leaning on the railing of a bridge with his head thrown back and his fingers running through his messy brown hair popped up on screen. He was wearing ripped and faded jeans and his black shirt was open and flapping in the breeze, exposing his well-toned chest. All the women in the flat sighed, annoying the men.

"I used to date Cormac, but that was only to make Ron jealous. I always thought him a bit self-centered and angry." They showed his photo, which was taken in what looked like a fake art museum. He was dressed in a suit and tie and standing next to a statue of himself, looking smug. All around him on the walls were portraits of him in various poses.

"Speaking of Ron, we’ve had a complicated relationship. I mean, we’ve been friends since we were eleven, and had been lovers for a few years. If he hadn’t dumped me for someone else, I think we might have ended up married someday."

Everyone in the flat sniggered when they showed a picture of Ron sitting on a park bench on a sunny afternoon. He was sitting back, both his arms on the back of the bench and his legs spread apart, like he was just chillin’. He was wearing a long sleeved, white T-shirt under a short sleeved, checkered one, his long lanky legs were covered in baggy khakis and on his head was a tight-fitting baseball cap- turned sideways. He was winking and grinning as two scantily clad woman walked by the bench. Harry thought he looked like a skateboarder and/or an idiot.

"Blaise?" Hermione said after Brian asked how well she knew him. "I really don’t know him at all. We went to school together, but we um… hung with different crowds. I really don’t think we ever said more than two words to each other, and those two words were probably not nice ones!" 

There was the publicity photo of Blaise on the screen. It was a stunning black and white of him dancing in the middle of a wet street, holding a huge striped umbrella while the rain fell around him. He was wearing black dress pants, patent leather shoes, a white silk shirt and a black sports jacket. The only color in the picture was the red stripes on the umbrella. 

"And last but not least, Draco Malfoy," Brian said with a wiggle of his perfect eyebrows. "I’m very interested to hear what you have to say about him!"

Hermione laughed lightly. "Draco?" she said, with a wave of her hand. "He was a bastard, pure and simple! I can honestly say that he made my childhood a living hell and that I hated him with every fiber of my being!"

"Did he tease you?"

"Tease me?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "Every day! Every chance he got, he would insult me and my friends. There were times I did think him an evil genius though…"

As she kept talking about the things Draco had done during school, they showed a picture of him lying on a bed that was covered in money and jewels, his arms behind his head, smirking arrogantly. He was dressed in an expensive tuxedo, his hair looking perfectly coiffed and his grey, piercing eyes staring right into the camera. Harry ‘hmphed’ when they showed it, his frown deepening. He shoved a handful of mixed nuts into his mouth to keep from venting out loud.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, there you have it. Hermione’s memories of the five men who will try to win her over. Will they succeed or will they leave as they came- empty handed and empty hearted?

………………………….

"We’re live on three! Two! One!" 

"Welcome back to Can You Feel the Love!" Brian said happily, even though his head was pounding and he was sure he had a concussion. "When we last left, the men were fixing their dinners and after a little unforeseen accident, they have all managed to scrape together an entry for the challenge!"

The camera panned the table that had been set up hastily on the back lawn. Five covered dishes sat in front of five very nervous looking men. Jordan Samsey was standing there, rocking on his heels excitedly, ready for the insults and rudeness to begin once again.

"Remember, the winner of this challenge will get ten thousand quid and more importantly, be whisked away to a romantic dinner with Hermione!" he said, the camera zooming in on her uncomfortable and anxious face. "Chef, whenever you’re ready…"

Jordan walked up the first victim, Blaise, and with a grin, lifted the lid. What he saw made him speechless for the first time in his life. It took a second for him to find the words to describe what was on the plate. There were strips of some black things that might have once been sausages placed on top of some pale gelatinous goop that was thick with pieces of god knew what. "This looks like charred pieces of shit on a puddle of puke!" he said, almost retching. "What the bloody hell is this supposed to be?" 

"I… I don’t know!" Blaise said, embarrassed, "A casserole?"

"A casserole?" Jordan shrieked. "I wouldn’t feed this to my worst enemy!" He placed the lid back on, licked his lips and went on to the next plate, hoping to God that what he found underneath was better than what he just seen. 

Oliver stood there, trying to act cool and aloof. He knew he didn’t know how to cook and instead of trying, failing and looking like an idiot, he had decided to just make one of his favorite snacks. Let him find something wrong with that!

Jordan put the lid aside and starred in total disbelief. "How old are you?" he screamed in Oliver’s face, "Four? What the hell… this is a daycare snack, not a bloody meal!" He shook his head, "Celery and peanut butter! What’s next? String cheese and goldfish crackers?"

Draco was next in line and was doing his best to stay calm and keep the faith. He knew his meal was a thousand times better than what had been presented. He wanted to win this, more than anything.

Jordan cautiously lifted the dome and then a smile lit up his face. "Finally, something edible!" He picked up a fork and asked Draco to tell them what his dish was. 

"Spaghetti with a fresh tomato and basil sauce, and a nice side salad of fresh greens, cucumbers, mozzarella cheese and herb croutons."

Jordan twirled the pasta around his fork and took a bite. "That is wonderful, young man!" he said, wiping the sauce from his chin with a napkin. He gave him a thumbs up, and Draco looked smugly down the table at Blaise and Oliver.

Ron was sweating profusely as Chef Samsey stepped in front of him. He knew that what he had prepared was utter shit compared to Draco’s meal. He scrunched up his face, ready for the screaming he knew was about to come.

"A tuna sandwhich?" Chef Samsey said, in disbelief. "And a sorry looking one at that! You call this a meal?"

Ron gulped, struggling to find the strength to speak. This man scared the hell out of him. "There was a pickle with it…"

"A pickle?" The Chef almost screamed. "Oh, a bloody pickle makes all the difference!" he said sarcastically. "Why is there a huge bite taken out of one side?" he held it up to the camera. 

"I… I was hungry?" Ron said, his voice so low it was barely audible. 

Jordan’s eyes just about popped from his head. He snapped his hanging jaw shut and without another word, went on to Cormac. "I hope for your sake that you’ve managed to make a meal worth my time, because I’m bloody well about to flip my fucking lid here!"

Cormac proudly lifted the lid from his dish and said with a proud voice, "I have prepared for the first course, a Mediterranean salad with olives, red onions, tomato and feta cheese."

Jordan was pleasantly surprised. "It seems we have a budding Chef in our mists!"

"For the main course, I decided upon Filet Mignon with a Shitake mushroom, port wine demi-glaze, garlic mashed potatoes and fresh vegetables." Cormac could see the Chef licking his lips in anticipation of tasting his fine food. "I have created for dessert, chocolate mousse with fresh raspberries!"

Jordan picked up a knife and fork and sliced a piece of the steak. He placed it in his mouth, closed his eyes and sighed in delight as he chewed. "You, my boy are amazing! Simply amazing!" He shook his hand, pumping it furiously. "I think we have our winner!"

Draco looked over at Hermione who was obviously disgusted by the thought of spending time alone with McLaggen. She happened to glance over at him and catch his eye, quickly looking away when she saw how angry he was.

Oliver and Blaise were a little disappointed, but just shrugged it off. They knew they had no chance of winning, so they weren’t very disappointed. Ron and Draco on the other hand, were extremely upset. 

"I can’t believe that filthy jerk won!" Ron said to no one in particular.

"If you ask me, he should have been disqualified after almost killing us all with his little joke," Draco said from behind him. "Instead, he’s rewarded by getting to spend some alone time with her." 

Ron noticed Draco staring at Hermione in a strange way- almost like he was fawning over her- and it unnerved him. Did this man actually think he was going to win Hermione? The bastard was totally delusional. In the end, Hermione would come back to him because that is where she belonged. "Doesn’t seem fair does it? I think they should have let her pick the winner, I’m sure it wouldn’t have been McLaggen…"

"Oh, Weasley, like she would have picked your half-eaten sandwich as the winner!" Draco said and with a chuckle, he walked away, glancing once more in Hermione’s direction before going back inside the house. The cameras mounted in the house followed him as he walked to his room, took off his shoes and climbed onto his bed. They watched him as he lie there, staring at the white ceiling, and they were still watching as he closed his eyes and fell into a restless sleep.

Out on the back lawn, Cormac was basking in all his glory. He ran over to Hermione and tried to embrace her, and she almost fell over in her haste to escape it.

"Well, there you have it! Winner of the first challenge is Cormac McLaggen!" Brian said, flashing his brilliantly sparkling smile. "Remember to tune in Thursday when we’ll recap their date, listen to the men vent in the confessional and then go live to the elimination and the next challenge! See you then. Oceancrest, out!" 

A/N:Thanks to my beta for this chapter, Lady Lynn!


	6. 6

  
Author's notes: It's date time for Hermione and Cormac, but forst he needs to get cleaned up!  


* * *

"So, Harry," Ginny asked. "What did you think of the show?" 

Everyone had left just five minutes ago, promising to come back on Thursday to watch the next episode. There was a mess all over the house; popcorn, crisps, and peanuts were scattered all over the carpet. They were finally alone and the last thing Harry wanted to talk about was the damn show.

"What did I think?" He said, picking up a squeaky toy that Teddy had left behind. "The show was stupid and a big waste of time." He put the toy on the coffee table and turned to his girlfriend, who was frowning at him, annoyed. "We all know she’s going to end up picking Ron, don’t we? I mean, look at her other choices!"

"You just want her to be with Ron because that’s what you’re comfortable with," she snapped, brushing crumbs from the sofa cushions. "My brother is an asshole and I’d rather see her end up with McLaggen before Ron!"

"You can’t be serious!" Harry said, laughing. "We both know deep down that she and Ron are meant to be together. If she would just forgive him…"

"Forgive him!" Ginny shouted, making Harry cringe in fright. "How can you say that? After what he did to her, do you honestly think she should just accept his half-assed excuse of an apology and get back together with him?"

Harry didn’t want to say that he honestly thought that was exactly what Hermione should do. He knew Ginny’s response would not be pretty, and he was really counting on getting some nookie later. "I guess not," he said with a slightly crooked frown. "What he did was unforgivable, and maybe she should just move on- they should both just move on." Ginny smiled at him, happy that he saw her way. He was relieved that he had given the correct response…

"I’m glad you agree with me," she said, slipping her arms around his neck. "And I think you should be rewarded for your good sense." 

Her steamy kisses and soft caresses were enough to take Harry’s mind off Hermione and Draco- for now…

………………………………

After the live show shut down for the day, Cormac was told he had an hour to get ready before the limo showed up to whisk him and Hermione away. Although he wanted to ask what the hell a limo was, he bit his tongue, not wanting to look stupid. He had to remember that this was a Muggle show, and he was supposed to know about all things Muggle… 

Passing the door to the living room, he saw Oliver and Ron sitting around the coffee table with an open game box. "Hey, losers!" he said with a sneer from the doorway.

Neither one looked up, but went about pulling items from the box. "Do you smell something, Ron?" Oliver asked.

"Yeah, smells like dog shit, doesn’t it?"

Cormac ignored them, walked into the room and sat down at the head of the coffee table. Wanting them to acknowledge his awesomeness, and bow down to his obvious talent, he was annoyed when they didn’t even look at him. "Sulking?" he asked. "I’d sulk too if I were you. I mean, let’s face it, I’m a winner and as long as I’m in this house, you’re going to be losers- that’s just a fact." 

He watched them pretend he wasn’t even there for a second longer and then got up. "You blokes are pathetic, you know that? Ignoring me is not going to make me go away. I’m in this house to stay. I’m the best at everything and I’m going to keep winning, so you might as well get used to it!"

Cormac frowned, not getting the rise out of the men he wanted; he stood up and made sure to let out a loud, poisonous, fart in their direction before walking out the door.

He strolled to his room, whistling a little ditty, his eyes sparkling with excitement. He knew he was ‘the man’, and now everyone else did too! He sure showed them, didn’t he? From now on, no one could say he didn’t have a chance on this show!

The door to the room was closed and he paused, pressing his ear against the wood, listening. He knew Zabini was in there- probably scouring the tub out with a toothbrush… the man was a freak! Of all the people to get stuck with, it had to be the one who was certifiably nutters.

He opened the door and stopped in his tracks. Blaise’s bed was covered in plastic! Cormac raised his eyebrows in disbelief. Apparently he was afraid of dust mites contaminating his blankets and pillows. "What a wanker!"

Coramc could hear the water running in the bathroom. ‘Probably scrubbing the skin right from his body!’ he thought. Cormac hated to bathe; it took time away from other things, such as sleeping. There were times when he went a few months without his skin seeing a speck of soap. So what if he wasn’t squeaky clean? It didn’t take away from his awesomeness!

He just didn’t understand Zabini. Of course there were evil little microbes on every surface, but why worry about them? No matter how often you cleaned your toilet, there was still going to be germs on it! He imagined himself picking up Blaise by the ankles and sticking his head in a toilet bowl full of shit and piss and chuckled with delight.

Speaking of piss… he walked over to Blaise’s side of the room and cocked his head, checking to see if the water was still running. He lifted the plastic from one corner of the bed…

…………………….

Back in the control room, Stevens was sipping Diet Coke and munching on his tenth Slim Jim when he happened to glace up at monitor 3, which was picking up the room of McLaggen and Zabini. So far, the last half hour had been incredibly boring. All he had to do was make sure everything was being recorded and that the audio stayed up and running. That was all about to change. "What the fuck is he doing?" Stevens asked, getting closer to the screen. "Oh bloody hell!" His hand scrambled in his pocket for his phone so he could dial Mr. Clump’s number. Mr. Clump in turn called Myra Shanks, who called the number of the go-between between her and the big boss man. He in turn called the boss…

…………………..

Ron and Oliver were sitting in the living room trying to figure out how to play a game called Yahtzee when they heard Malfoy scream, "I thought I told you…" There was a second of silence and then a loud "What?" His door flew open and he ran past, headed straight for Blaise and Cormac’s room.

Ron and Oliver looked at each other, threw down their tiny pencils and ran after him. They caught up to him just as he wrenched the door open and recoiled in horror. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" Draco managed to ask before he was shoved aside by Oliver and Ron, who took a look and uttered twin moans of disgust.

There, on Blaise’s bed stood McLaggen. His pants were around his ankles and he was in the process of taking a piss right in the middle of the comforter.

"You nasty fucker!" Ron said, trying not to puke.

Cormac just grinned, pulled up his pants and jumped off the bed. "Just playing a little joke on the freak…"

"Freak?" Draco interrupted, astonished." You think Zabini’s the freak? He’s not the one taking a piss on someone’s bed!" 

"I say we teach this dirty pig a lesson," Oliver said. "I think it’s time he cleaned up his act, don’t you Malfoy?"

"I couldn’t agree more, Wood." The three of them advanced slowly across the room, cornering McLaggen so he couldn’t get away. "W… what are you doing?" he said, looking for escape. "You better not lay one damn finger on me or…"

"Get him!" Oliver shouted and they tackled him, knocking him to the floor.

"Weasley!" Draco shouted, "Get the bathroom door!" 

Ron let go of one of Cormac’s flailing arms and ran for the door. He opened it and billowing clouds of steam hit him in the face. He ran back over and helped a struggling Draco and Oliver pick Cormac up. As they were carrying him, he managed to get kick one of his legs loose and his foot connected with Oliver’s chest, knocking the wind right out of him. All it did was make Oliver angrier and he got a punch to the face as payback.

"You baaaaastardssssssss!" Cormac screamed and fought with everything he had. Finally freeing himself, he landed on the floor with a sickly thud and Blaise, who was singing and washing his privates with a loofah, immediately stopped in the middle of a ‘la la la’ and opened the shower door.

"Hey! I’m taking a shower here, so…" He stopped in mid sentence, seeing the tangled mess of arms and legs as the three men once again jumped on top of McLaggen. "What the hell?"

Draco and Oliver picked up Cormac, hoisted him over their heads and Ron yelled, "Get out of the way, Zabini!"

"Stop struggling, McLaggen!" Oliver said, pinching him as hard as he could on the back of his upper arm.

"Wood, I'm going to rip your pecker off and shove it up your ass! Let me the fuck go!" Cormac screamed. 

Blaise stepped out of shower, rivulets of water streaming down his tan skin. He quickly jumped out of the way as Cormac’s body sailed over his head and landed on the floor of the shower stall. Grabbing a pristine, white towel from the towel rack, he wrapped it around his middle. "Would someone like to explain what the shit is going on here?" he asked as Draco straddled Cormac and started to rip his clothes off. They were all getting soaked, and the bathroom floor was quickly becoming a puddle.

"We caught this sick twit pissing all over your bed!" Ron said, leaning into the pounding stream of water and pulling McLaggen’s shoes off. "So we decided he needed to be punished!"

"He… p… b…" Blaise was so angry that he couldn’t even find words to express his disgust. Instead, he grabbed Ron by the back of his shirt, and pulled him roughly out of the way. Jumping into the stall, he snatched the removable shower head from the fixture, knelt down and started spraying him directly in the face.

"Get…off…me…" Cormac sputtered as the powerful jet hit him in the face, threatening to drown him. He flailed and kicked as Draco removed his pants and graying underwear, rendering him naked and helpless. 

"Teach you to piss on my things!" Blaise roared, dropping the shower head and picking up the open bottle of sandalwood scented body wash. He squeezed it up and down the length of the sputtering man’s body as Draco grabbed the shampoo. 

"When’s the last time you washed your hair, you disgusting hog?" Draco asked, scrubbing the man’s greasy head as hard as he could with his fingers, almost retching at the slimy feeling under his nails.

"It’s in my eyes!" Cormac screamed. "It’s burning. Get it out!" He tried to pry Draco’s hands away, digging and scratching with his fingernails. "Stop!" he screamed as Blaise aimed the water once again, pouring it over his head and face. The suds were burning as they went up his nose and into his mouth. He was certain these men were trying to kill him.

Draco peeked his head out of the shower. "Wood, hand me that toilet brush!"

Oliver wondered what the hell Draco could possibly want with the toilet brush. He got his answer when Cormac started screaming about being flayed alive. Draco was scrubbing his skin with it, not really hard, but enough to cause some pain. 

Blaise (space in the front) was cowering in the corner of the stall, fearful that the germs from the toilet brush were going to infect him. He was moaning inwardly at the thought of how many germs were on that brush!

"Just shut the hell up, McLaggen, this is long over due!" Draco said, tossing the brush onto the bathroom floor, making Blaise screech as it sailed way too close to his face. "Zabini, rinse him off!" 

Blaise was pleased to spray the poor boy with water again. He took pleasure in making sure it went into his face a few times before it was over and then he turned it off.

By now, Cormac was worn out from fighting and in too much pain to move, so he just lay there like a slug- that was until he looked up through his wet bangs and saw Ron standing there with a toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. He quickly stood up, startling Blaise and Draco, who immediately vacated the shower stall.

"Ready to get that moss off your teeth, McLaggen?" Ron asked with a mischievous grin.

"I don’t know, Weasley, I think his teeth are beyond help," Draco said. "They’d probably just disintegrate as soon as the paste hit them."

"Please!" Cormac begged. "I can do it myself; I don’t need your help!" He was naked and freezing, not to mention totally humiliated. 

Draco seemed to ponder his request for a second. "Fine," he said, handing the toothbrush to him after spreading a massive amount of the mint-flavored paste on the surface. "You can do it yourself, but we’re standing here to make sure it gets done."

"What!" Cormac shouted. "I don’t need fucking babysitters!"

"Apparently you do, because you have no idea how to take care of yourself."

Cormac shut his mouth with a loud snap. They could see anger in the shade of red creeping up his neck and face, and then he exploded. "Get the fuck out of here now!" he shouted. "I hate you- all of you! If I were back in the Wizarding world, I’d take my wand and Avada Kedavra your crazy asses quicker than you could say Dumbledore’s dingdong! No witch is worth this torture and no amount of money is worth having to spend four weeks locked up in a house with a former lunatic Death Eater, a Quidditch player who’s obviously been struck one too many times in the head with a Bludger (extra space) and…" He stopped his rampage, noticing that all the men were standing there with smiles on their faces and not fleeing from his wrath. "What the shit are you laughing at, huh?"

"You just lost eight quid, mate!"

Cormac’s jaw fell to the floor. "GET OUT!" he screamed, and all of them fled from the room, laughing hysterically. The bathroom door slammed so hard that it rattled the window panes, and they could hear him shouting in frustration. 

"I think our work here is done!" Ron said. "Sick bastard will think twice before taking a leak on someone’s bed again."

"Jealous assholes. This doesn’t change the fact that I won! I’m the one taking Hermione to dinner, not you fucking pricks!" Cormac shouted through the door.

"He has a point you know," Oliver said and everyone suddenly looked depressed.

They walked to the door just as Blaise pulled a pair of bright yellow rubber gloves from his top dresser drawer and slipped them on. "He got what he deserved, but now I have to wash these piss-stained bed clothes. I should make him do it, but he has to go on his date… lucky bastard…"

Draco, who was last out the door, stopped and grinned at Blasie mischievously. "I wouldn’t worry too much about that date, Zabini. I have a feeling things aren’t going to go as well as McLaggen thinks…" And with that enigmatic sentence, he left.

………………….

"Mr. Clump- Donald, I just don’t want to go!" Hermione said, as the makeup artist applied her mascara. "Just the thought of having to spend an entire evening with him… breathing on me… makes me sick to my stomach." The woman moved on to her lipstick, which was a pretty shade of dark pink.

Donald could totally see her point. The man had like four teeth- all of them rotten, the worst case of gingivitis he had ever seen and halitosis that could be bottled and used as a secret weapon. "It’s only for a few hours, Hermione. Surely you can tolerate his stench for that long?" He doubted it. "And you never know, perhaps the young man has cleaned himself up. Maybe he thinks that he can woo you with his new, shiny, clean, hair; highly polished nails and sludge-free arse crack!"

Hermione whipped her head around, encountering Donald’s saucy grin. 

"Thought you could use a laugh!" he said.

"Thanks," she said, as the hairstylist un-toweled her hair and went to work with the dryer, flat iron, gel and hairspray. "By the way, what was that big commotion earlier? You tore out of here like a bat out of hell."

"Oh, that! Well, that was just show stuff. Stevens was having some sort of technical difficulties with one of the cameras," he lied. "I see you’re almost ready, so I’ll let the driver know."

"Are you quite sure I have to go through with this?" Hermione asked, "Couldn’t we just pretend that the date happened?"

Donald chuckled. "The fans are waiting on pins and needles to watch the date unfold. We have to go through with it." He walked to the door. "Who knows, maybe it’ll be more interesting than you could have ever imagined. Maybe you’ll even enjoy yourself."

Hermione frowned. "Fat chance," she mumbled as Donald shut the door behind him.

…………………..

Draco, Ron, and Blaise sat on stairs as Cormac answered the door. He was dressed in his best suit and tie- which were not very stylish- and his hair was now slicked back on his head making him look like a Wookie. He was sporting a nice sized black eye, a long deep scratch down one cheek and a swollen bottom lip, but despite that, he still carried himself as if he was the most amazing thing to ever walk the earth.

"Ta ta, losers!" he said, gripping the doorknob. "Don’t wait up for me!" 

"Oh, I’ll be waiting… with a gun…" Draco said, and the seriousness of his voice made Cormac stop halfway out the door and turn around. "Have a good time, McLaggen."

Cormac glared hatefully at them for a second and then walked from the house, got into the limo, and was driven off into the darkness.

…………………..

Hermione jumped when the doorbell rang, almost tripping over the camera man on her way to the door. She grasped the knob, closed her eyes, and took a huge, lung filling, breath. She was not looking forward to this date at all and secretly wished it were someone else behind that door. "I’m coming!" she said and opened the door. "W… what happened to you?" she asked, aghast.

"What do you mean?" Cormac asked, confused. Was she talking about how different he looked dressed up? Was that good or bad? 

"Your face!" she gasped in horror.

"My face? What about it?" He was becoming increasingly annoyed that she was looking at him like he was deformed or something. It suddenly dawned on him that she was referring to his battle wounds. "Oh! You mean this?" he asked, chuckling. "I was attacked." He saw a look of concern flicker in her eyes and it made his heart leap. He held out his arm and she hooked hers through it.

Together they walked down the path and to the limo. The driver tipped his hat as he opened the door, ushering them inside.

"Attacked, you said? Who attacked you?" she asked, once they were seated and on the move.

Cormac was inwardly devising an intricate lie that would make himself look like the victim and the others look like crazy hooligans. "I was just minding my own business when the other blokes in the house barged into my room and started attacking me!"

"Why would they do something like that?" Hermione asked, not believing a single word. Like Ron or Oliver would just attack him unprovoked. She knew first hand what a hot temper and smart mouth Cormac had. She was sure it was all his fault that he had gotten his ass beat. 

"They were jealous that I won the challenge and that I was going to be spending time alone with you tonight. Malfoy was particularly angry. You know how he hates to lose! Well, he told me he was going to kill me, and the rest of them said they wanted to help. I tried to fight them off, and finally I managed to knock Wood out and then I threw Weasley off and ran for the door. Draco and Zabini chased me down the hall, but I hid in the closet, fearful that they would find me and finish the job they started!" He thought he saw a tear in her eye, and almost wiggled with delight, thinking she was being sympathetic to his plight.

Hermione was ready to burst. It took all of her will power to not to laugh in his face. Her eyes were watering with the strain of not telling him how utterly ridiculous he sounded. "I… I’m just glad you’re okay!" she said, hanging her head so that he wouldn’t see her smiling. 

"I’m alright now, don’t worry. I’ll get my revenge, I always do."

The car turned into the restaurant, stopped, and the driver let them out. "Have a splendid evening," he said politely.

"Like that’ll happen," Hermione mumbled sarcastically.

…………………….

 

They were shown their table, which was on the terrace. Cormac took his seat without pulling Hermione’s out for her. She stood there until the waiter, with a look of pure disgust at Cormac, seated her. 

"Thank you," she said with a smile as the very attractive, young, waiter named Pierce placed a menu on front of her.

"Anything to drink, sir?" the waiter asked Cormac. 

"Bottle of your best, please."

"Will you be having any appetizers?" Pierce asked. "We have a delicious foccacia with warm sun dried tomato, goat cheese, and three olive tapenade or a potato pancake with smoked trout and dill crème fraiche." He was looking directly at Hermione’s breasts, his eyes sparkling with desire.

"Nothing for me, thanks," Hermione said with a flirty smile at the waiter that made Cormac visibly seethe with anger. "I’m watching my figure."

The camera zoomed in on the sexy waiter’s face. "As am I," Pierce said. "And a lovely figure it is."

"Excuse me!" Cormac interrupted. 

Pierce cleared his throat and turned to Cormac. "And you sir, will you be having an appetizer? May I recommend the Potato Pancake? I see that you may have a problem biting into the Foccacia with your teeth being so… unhealthy." He looked at Cormac’s rotting teeth, his lips curled in distaste.

"No!" he snapped. "Just bring us the damn wine."

With one last lingering gaze at Hermione’s long tan legs and huge boobs, he said, "Very well!" He snapped his heels together, turned and made his way towards the kitchen, trying to avoid the camera men, the lights, and all the sound equipment that was in the way. 

"That waiter is a jerk. I should complain and have him fired!" Cormac picked up the menu and hid behind it, not wanting Hermione to look at his hideous mouth. He knew it looked gross, but somehow it had never bothered him before now. How was he supposed to get this woman to love him when he couldn’t even talk to her without being afraid one of his decaying incisors would fall out of his mouth and land on her plate?

"A bottle of our best…" Pierce said, appearing at Hermione’s side with the wine. He opened it and slowly poured her half a glass, making sure his arm brushed against her breast. He didn’t bother to pour Cormac a glass, but asked instead, "Have you decided yet, my lovely?"

"N…" Hermione started to say, when Cormac interrupted.

"Yes. The lady will be having the lamb meat balls in the spicy tomato sauce with the grilled polenta and wild arrugula," he said to the waiter with a smile that harbored secrets murderous thoughts.

"But I don’t like…" Hermione managed to get out before Cormac talked over her.

"And I’ll have the chicken portobello ravioli." He snapped the menu closed, snatched Hermione’s from her hand and smacked Pierce in the chest with them. "Here you go, mate. Now take your pathetic, dead-end job having self to the kitchen and place our orders like a good little waiter or I won’t leave you a tip- and I know you need it to buy your gay lover a new purse."

Pierce held his tongue because he needed his job. It was tough, but he managed to pretend he wasn’t just insulted. "Right away, sir." He made his way to the kitchen. "Hey, Raul! Asshole at table 12 just ordered the ravioli. Make sure you give him the ‘special’ sauce, will you?"

Raul smiled wickedly at him. "Never mind the sauce; we’ve got orders from the boss to make his meal one he’ll never forget! Listen…"

……………………….

Back at the table, Hermione and Cormac sat looking at each other. Hermione was extremely angry and Cormac was simply too stupid to notice. He thought she was looking at him because his display of wit had impressed her. He was thinking about how she was going to react when he made his move. She was sure to be overwhelmed with passion and he knew she’d want to rip his clothes off.

"Did you have to be so ignorant to him?" Hermione snapped, picking up her wine and taking a sip. She had to whisper her anger, not wanting to cause a scene. "Do you honestly think he deserved to be insulted like that?"

"Yes. He was leering at you and I won’t have anyone ogling my woman."

Hermione sat her wine down so hard that it splashed onto the tablecloth. "I am not your woman, nor would I ever want to be!" she said loudly. "I find you disgusting, egotistical, obnoxious, overbearing and I hate lamb!" she shouted the last two words, making everyone in the restaurant turn around.

Cormac shushed her. "Granger, for Merlin’s sake, just sit down, people are looking at us! You’re acting like trashy whore that has no manners, but why would I expect anything less from a woman who had to resort to plastic surgery just to have a man fall in love with her? Did you have to have the surgeons fix your cunt too? I bet it was all stretched out from Potter and Weasley taking you at the same time!"

She stood, hands shaking and threw her drink in his face. "How dare you insult me?"

"Oh, I dare!" Cormac said. "In fact, it’s time someone told you what a bitch you really are, Granger. All through school you acted like you were so high and mighty. Such a stuck up bitch who thought her shit didn’t stink. Well, let me tell you something…"

"Whoops!" Pierce said, pretending to trip over his own feet. The plates of food he was carrying flew from his hands and soared through the air, landing right on Cormac. "Sorry about that! I’m so clumsy!" he said, smiling at Hermione as the camera men and the restaurant patrons all burst into laughter.

Cormac sat there stunned as food slid down his head and face and plopped into his lap. He sneezed and mashed potatoes flew from his nose. "I’m going to get you for this," he said to Pierce. "Somehow. Someday. When you least expect it…"

……………………….

Cormac opened the front door of the house, and was not surprised to see Draco waiting for him. "Before you say anything, Malfoy, just shut the hell up, okay?"

"Dinner didn’t go as planned, McLaggen?" Draco asked with a smirk.

"Obviously not, dumbfuck. I’m wearing a garlic potato and white wine face mask, I have seasoned corn in my hair and I’m pretty sure I have shrimp scampi down my pants- so no, it didn’t go as planned!" He shook his hair and pieces of pasta, corn and parsley fell onto the floor. 

"And Herm… Granger?" Draco asked, catching himself. "Is she the one who covered you in food?"

"No!" Cormac said, "but the bitch did throw a drink in my face." He took off his stained jacket and threw it over his shoulder. "I’m through with her! From now on, I’m in it for the money. You can have the crazy slag all to yourselves. She’s a fake, a plastic wannabe, and she can fuck off for all I care. Now, goodnight." 

As Cormac walked to his room, Draco watched him, hate etched plainly on his face. The sooner he was removed from the house and the competition, the better. He knew the elimination was coming up on Thursday. He had to make sure McLaggen was the one Hermione booted from the show, and after the fiasco tonight, there was a big possibility it would happen even without his interference. He waited until he heard Cormac close his bedroom door and then he went to the only blind spot in the house- the hall closet- and pulled out his phone to make a call. "Yes, yes! I know it’s late, but I need some information about tomorrow..."


	7. 7

  
Author's notes: Hermione gets a surprise, Draco makes an impression and the next challenge is announced.  


* * *

The phone rang as soon as Hermione shut the door to her flat. She picked it up and snapped, "Hello?" She was not in the mood to talk with anyone whatsoever. She had just had the worst date of her entire life- not that she had had very many- and all she wanted to do was take a long relaxing shower and go to bed.

"I heard about your date tonight," Donald said from the other end. "Care to talk about it?"

"Oh, Donald! It was just awful," she said, kicking off her heels and throwing herself onto the bed. "First, he looked like someone had beaten him within an inch of his life…"

"Well, that’s what he gets for taking a leak on Mr.Zabini’s bed."

Hermione sat up. "What?" she said, shocked. "He told me that they beat him up because they were jealous that he’d won the challenge!"

Donald chuckled. "Honestly, Hermione! Did you really believe that?"

She smiled, despite her disgust at what McLaggen had done. "Well… of course not!" She lay back down, putting her arm under her head. "I was sure there was a perfectly good reason for the other guys to beat him up- I just would never have guessed that it was him peeing on Blaise’s bed!"

"Yes, well I’ve not only called to check on how exciting your evening was, but to let you know that the boss would like you to show up at the house around eight a.m., just to surprise the men."

Hermione, who was an early riser, had no problem with the request, but doubted that any of the men would even be awake so early in the morning. "How long do I stay?" The thought of having to hang out with them for all those hours, probably having nothing to say, was not very appealing. Would they just sit around and stare at each other? Sure, she had no problem talking to Ron, but she didn’t really want to. If she had it her way, he was going to be one of the first to go.

"As long as you want. Mingle with them, flirt, have deep meaningful conversations with them, just make it good."

Hermione frowned. Flirt? Even though she had been trained before the show in the art of flirting, she was still extremely uncomfortably doing it. It was alien to her, and made her feel like a total idiot. "What would you like me to do? Show up in a string bikini and high heels and prance around giggling like a stupid school girl- smiling and soothing their huge egos?"

"Now you’ve got the idea!" Donald joked. "Seriously, just be your charming self. Remember, these men have to win your affection- not the other way around." 

She could hear him switch the phone to his other hand. "Easier said than done, I don’t fancy any of them. They’re all dysfunctional in one way or another, and some are even borderline insane. How am I supposed to pick from the gaggle of gruesome guys you’ve assembled?"

"Hermione, you’re the one who chose them, not me! You’ve got to pick one of them, so maybe take time today and study them; choose the one who you think you would best get along with and go from there."

"I’m telling you that I can’t get along with any of them! I’d rather die alone than spend the rest of my life listening to Oliver talk about Quidditch, or have Blaise follow me around with a spray bottle of Lysol…"

Donald knew she had a point, but like he said, she was the one who had tried to pull a fast one and got caught. It was her own fault her choices were so limited. "Well, what about Ron Weasley? He seems to honestly regret cheating on you; maybe you can rekindle that relationship."

Hermione almost retched in her mouth. "There is no way in hell that I would take him back. In fact, I’m eagerly awaiting the day when I can boot his sorry ass from the house and never have to look at his stupid face again."

Donald laughed, loving the way she always spoke her mind. "I guess that leaves only Mr. Malfoy, doesn’t it?"

Hermione noticed the sly way he said Malfoy’s name and pounced. "If you think for one second that I’d be able to put everything that man has done behind me and suddenly look at him in a romantic way, well then you’re just as crazy as Zabini!" For some odd reason, a vision of herself and Malfoy having a somewhat decent conversation on the sofa only the day before flashed through her mind. She had to admit that he was acting more mature than any of the others, and he was kind of nice to look at. "I could never love him."

"If you say so," Donald said a sing-song voice. "Have a good night and I’ll be keeping an eye on things from the control room tomorrow, so remember to at least pretend you’re having fun!" He hung up before she could say anything else.

Hermione got up, threw the cordless phone down on the bed, and headed for the shower. She turned on the taps full blast, and after peeling her dress from her body and taking off all her expensive jewelry, she stepped under the hot, pulsing, water and scrubbed memories of her nightmare evening from her tired body. She stood there watching it swirl around the drain, trapped by the Coeriolis effect that pulled it all down into the sewers where it belonged- forever.

…………………….

After a restless night of sleep, Hermione prepared for the day at the house with the men. She took great care in picking out her outfit. She wanted something sexy, but not whorish. That was rather hard to do, seeing that the wardrobe people insisted her closet be filled with tiny skirts that played peek-a-boo with her ass cheeks, and low cut tanktops that pushed her new giant breasts up to her neck, making it impossible to see her feet. There was no way she wanted to go into that house looking ‘slut-tastic’.

"There has to be some normal clothes in here!" she said, angrily scraping the hangers against the bar as she slid outfit after outfit to the other side and rejected it. There were a few pretty blouses that she really liked, but why wear them when they had to paired with a hooker skirt?

Giving up, she searched the dresser drawers instead. She found five different bikinis, all very small and very revealing, a few jumpers that were way too warm for the daytime and… "Aha!" she said happily, "Something denim- and with pant legs!" She pulled a pair of slinky, tight, dark-blue jeans out and held them up. "And there’s more!" she squealed happily, lifting a pile of various normal looking denims from the drawer. 

She chose some faded ones that hugged her curves very nicely and paired it with a light-pink, flowing, sleeveless top that she thought was sexy yet feminine. After fixing her own makeup, slipping some silver hoop earrings into her ears, and putting her long hair in a ponytail, she slipped on her pink sandals and headed for the door- pausing one last time to check out her reflection in the full length mirror. It was a stranger who looked back at her. "Shit!" she said. "I almost forgot to take the Polyjuice Potion!"

That would have been nice! Sitting there talking to them and suddenly morph back into her old self. She picked up the bottle and took a sip, shuddering at the aftertaste. This woman, whoever she was, at least tasted better than Millicent Bulstrode’s cat. She had often wondered who it was she was impersonating. After all, the woman did have an uncanny resemblance to her- except in the body area. Their eyes were almost identical and their noses so similar that she really couldn’t tell the difference. The lips were a little plumper, but still close enough that they could be her own.

Where was this woman? Did she agree to this or was her hair or whatever taken without her knowledge? Since it takes a month to make the Polyjuice Potion and it hadn’t been a month since Donald and Tyra had first approached her, how was it that they had this ready for her? She had so many questions, and being who she was, she planned on finding out the answers one way or another.

She smoothed her hair down, smiled at her new reflection, and headed for the limo that was waiting for her.

………………

Walking up the lot, she passed the trailer that was used as the control room and was not surprised to see Donald stick his head out the door. "Hermione! Lovely morning isn’t it?"

"Yes, just wonderful," she said, rolling her eyes.

"I suggest you use the back door, the one that leads to the kitchen. That way you can take them by surprise." He didn’t wait for her to respond, but shut the trailer door and went back to work.

Hermione looked up at the house and sighed, knowing this was probably going to be one of the longest days of her entire life. She walked past the front of the house, turned and went down the cobbled path that lead to the backyard. She was flanked on both sides by beautiful flowers and hedges that smelled sweet in the balmy summer morning air.

She walked past the hot tub, the swimming pool and the basketball court, glanced at the all the weightlifting equipment that was next to the sliding glass doors and stopped. The curtains on the doors were closed, but it looked as if no lights were on inside. They were all probably still sleeping.

She hooked her fingers around the handle and the door opened with a soft ‘whoosing’ sound. She pushed the curtains to the side and stepped into the kitchen- where she froze.

"Morning, Granger!" Draco Malfoy said from the stove. "I’m just getting ready to cook some breakfast, care to join me?" he asked from over his shoulder- his bare shoulder.

Her eyes drifted to the camera in the corner of the ceiling and she knew- just knew that Donald was watching and laughing. ‘That sneaky bastard! He knew a half-naked Malfoy was in the here and…’ She let her eyes wander from the camera, to the glorious sexy image before her.

He was dressed in nothing but a pair of dark green boxer briefs that left nothing to the imagination, and tan slippers. She was sure she was standing there, her mouth gaping like a cod-fish, but she just couldn’t help herself! She had never even guessed that under those Hogwarts robes of days gone by, and the expensive designer outfits he preferred in adulthood, there was such a magnificent body! She imagined running her fingers lightly over the rippling muscles in his arms and chest and even roughly grabbing his tight ass and pulling him towards her…

"Granger?" he asked, turning around, a smirk spreading across his face.

Hermione tried to answer him but for some reason all that came out was, "Ma. Er…" She knew she was staring at the bulge in his underwear, but was helpless to turn away. It was like her eyes were magnets and his privates were metal.

He was holding a glass bowl in his hands, vigorously whisking eggs. He was still smirking at her as if totally amused. "Hello?" he said, laughing at her. "I see my awesome sexiness has taken away your ability to speak properly and has turned you into a blabbering idiot who drools on herself."

Hermione shook her head, the insult registering. "I am not drooling!"

He raised his eyebrow mockingly. "Then what’s that on your chin?" He laughed again as her hand immediately went to her face and found nothing. "Okay, so you weren’t drooling, but you were gawking at me like a sex starved maniac. For a second there I thought you might attack me and try to have your way with me. I didn’t want to have to beat you senseless with this whisk!" He held it up, looking at her through the shiny wires.

"I was only staring at you because I wasn’t expecting to find a naked man cooking eggs when I walked into the kitchen!" 

"I’m not naked," he said looking down at his underwear. 

"Might as well be!" she said. Her face was flaming red with embarrassment and she wanted to flee from the house and never come back. Had he seen her looking at his… stuff? "What are you doing up anyhow?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"You know what they say: ‘early to bed, early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise’." He turned away, giving her a nice view of his ass and went back to work making breakfast.

She watched him move around the kitchen like he’d been cooking his entire life." Well, you look healthy, and you’re definitely wealthy, but I just don’t see the wise part."

"Always the smartass, aren’t you Granger? There’s coffee made, help yourself." He motioned towards the counter with the spatula he was holding. 

She poured herself a cup of the strong black coffee and leaned against the counter. "Where did you learn how to cook, Malfoy?"

Draco had his answer prepared. "I taught myself. I like to try new and challenging things." He placed some bread into the toaster and pushed the lever down. "I actually enjoy it very much."

"That’s surprising," she said, sipping from her cup.

"You’ll soon find out, Granger, that I’m full of surprises." He slid his omelet onto a plate just as the toast popped up. "Sure you don’t want anything?" He buttered his toast and cut it into triangles. 

There was no way she could eat in front of him. Visions of her smiling with food stuck in her teeth haunted her. "I’m sure. They fed me before I left my flat." This was a total lie, she was starving and prayed that her stomach wouldn't betray her and growl. "Good coffee though."

He walked over to the still-open door, plate in one hand and his coffee in the other. "Coming?"

………………..

Out on the patio, they sat across from each other. He ate and she watched. It was a comfortable silence and that shocked both of them. Never in a million years did either one of them expect to find it so easy to get along. Then again, they had never really tried before.

He finished his toast, pushed his empty plate out of the way, and picked up his coffee. "I like the old you better," he said, looking at her over the rim of his mug.

Did he mean how she looked or how she acted before? She was confused. "If you mean the way I used to say hateful, mean things to you…"

"I mean the way you look. I miss the messy hair and the smudges of ink that you always had on the end of your nose- even the hideous outfits you used to wear."

Hermione was not sure what to say. "So are you saying you find me less attractive like this?"

He smiled devilishly at her. "Did I say I found you attractive at all?"

Hermione blushed; she felt stupid. Of course he never found her attractive, but he must really hate her if he found her new body repulsive as well! "Why are you being so nice to me? Why did you agree to do the show? You clearly aren’t in it for the money."

He put his coffee down and looked directly at her. "Do you want the honest truth, Granger, or do you want the lie I’m forced to perpetrate?" he asked. "Maybe I should just tell you. Maybe I should have told you a long time ago…" he trailed off, loosing his nerve.

As she looked into his eyes, she saw something there; something that made her pulse quicken and her palms turn sweaty. They said nothing, and as his hand inched across the table and found hers…

"Well what do we have here?" came Cormac’s sarcastic, loud voice from the doorway. 

Her eyes left Draco’s when she heard Cormac’s arrival, and in the split second it took to bring them back, whatever it was she had seen in them was gone. It was now replaced by annoyance and hatred. He quickly removed his hand from hers and got to his feet. The spell was broken.

"Trying to woo Granger with talk of how wonderful you are, Malfoy?" He mounted the stationary bike and began to peddle. "I wouldn’t bother if I were you, she’s obviously a lesbian."

"And why’s that McLaggen?" Draco asked, picking up his plate, his eyes grazing hers once more.

"Because if I couldn’t maker her knickers wet, then no one can."

"You must be out of your fucking mind," Draco said with a snort. "You’re face resembles a deformed Chihuahua licking piss off a cactus, you smell like day old diarrhea, and you’re about as smart as a lobotomized field mouse. Yeah- total turn on." 

He rolled his eyes, making Hermione giggle. "Are you going to stay out here with God’s plague to woman-kind or are you coming with me?" he asked her.

……………

She followed him back inside where he placed his dirty dish and the frying pan in the sink, squirted in some soap and filled it with hot water. He then walked out of the kitchen, leaving her standing there, wondering if she should follow. "Aren’t you coming?" he asked, and after a brief unsure moment, she went after him.

He opened the door to his room and he laughed lightly as she hovered in the archway, wringing her hands, looking pale and frightened. "What’s the matter, Granger? Afraid that as soon as the door shuts behind you, I’ll attempt to seduce you?" 

"No," she said stepping inside. It was strangely decorated. The room was totally done in black and white; the floor was checkered, the curtains were striped, the comforter and the sheets were plaid- even the walls were painted half back and half white, with hypnotic designs that made her dizzy just looking at them. It was total weirdness. "Lovely taste in décor," she said with a smirk, shutting the door with a click.

"Yeah, well, check this out," he said, closing the curtains and the black miniblinds, plunging them into total darkness. "Watch. This is so cool!" he walked over to the wall and flicked on the switch and the black light came on, making everything white in the room glow in the dark.

"I feel like I’m having a bad acid trip," Hermione said, her teeth floating in the darkness like the Cheshire Cat’s grin. "All we need to do is burn some incense and listen to Steppenwolf’s Magic Carpet Ride."

"What’s that?" Draco asked. "Some kind of music?" he asked, walking back over to her.

"Um… yes…" she said, the whites of her eyes rolling sarcastically. "They were a famous group in the 1960’s during the psychedelic era."

"I don’t know much about Mug… music. Never had the chance to listen to it very much."

"That’s pretty sad, Malfoy, you know that don’t you?" She couldn’t imagine not ever hearing Frank Sinatra, The Beatles, or even Panic! At the Disco. 

"Perhaps it’s something you can teach me about sometime. That is if you want to…"

She jumped as something warm touched her hand. She realized it was it his fingers. "What are you doing?" she asked, panicking that she was all alone with a man in his room- especially a hot, sexy, man in nothing but very tight underwear. He was suddenly close, so close she could feel his lips inches from hers.

"Wake up, fucktard!" Ron said, flinging the door open and flicking on the light. "Time to…" the words died in his throat as he beheld his ex-girlfriend standing in the middle of the room, moments away from snogging an almost naked Malfoy. "What the bloody hell is GOING ON HERE?"

"Ron!" Hermione said, jumping away from Draco. "I was… we were just… It’s not what it looks like!"

"Yes it is," Draco said, "we were about to kiss and you know it, so stop lying."

Hermione looked from Ron’s angry, beet-red face to Draco's sexy, smirking one and then back to Ron’s. Why was she feeling guilty? That was absolutely ridiculous! He cheated on her and now he had the nerve to make her feel like shit because she found another man attractive? Not happening! "I am free to snog whomever I want, Ron, and that includes Malfoy, so just shut the damn door and mind your own business!"

"You heard the lady, Weasley, get the fuck out!" he said, walking towards him, ready for a rumble.

Ron, who had not gotten past his initial shock, was now even more flabbergasted that Hermione had basically told him to fuck off. "What’s the world coming to when cowardly, arrogant, assholes like yourself get the girl?" he asked Malfoy angrily. 

"It’s always been that way, Weasley. You’ve just been too stupid to notice." He pushed him into the hallway and slammed the door.

……………

Ron, who had almost fallen on his ass, managed to collect his balance and immediately headed for the backyard were McLaggen and Wood were busy lifting weights. "Oi!" he shouted. "Would you believe that Malfoy has Hermione in his room right now and…?"

"He what?" Oliver said, dropping the barbell on his foot. "Fuck!" he screamed. "Shit! I think I broke my damn foot. How the bloody hell am I supposed to play Qui… soccer… football with a broken foot.

"Did I hear you just say that Hermione is in Malfoy’s room?" Blaise asked, coming through the door with a glass of milk and a banana. "When did she show up then?"

Oliver was still swearing up a storm and Ron had to talk over the racket. "I don’t know! I walked past his door and wanted to piss him off. I thought he was still sleeping so I opened the door and turned on the light and- there they were!"

"Wait a minute!" Oliver said, hopping over and taking a seat at the table across from Blaise. He looked up at Ron, shielding his eyes from the sun. "They were in there- in the dark- alone?" He pondered this for a moment. "Malfoy is a sneaky, sly, bastard; we all know that. He seems to be playing dirty; acting like he’s changed for the better, but we all know he’s the same arrogant, little ferret we knew from school. We can’t let him win."

"And how do you suggest we stop that from happening?" Cormac asked. "Apparently Malfoy’s already got his hooks into her and she’s falling for it. He’s already managed to get her alone…"

Oliver smiled deviously. "Well then, we team up and make sure it never happens again."

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Blaise asked, peeling his banana and taking a bite. He chewed and swallowed quickly. "If he wins a challenge, then he’s going to be alone with her. There’s nothing we can do about that."

"Then we have to make sure he never wins a challenge, don’t we?" Oliver said.

Ron rolled his eyes. "And how the hell are we going to do that?"

"Ever hear of sabotage?"

………………….

Back in the control room, Donald and Stevens were glued to the monitors. 

"This shit is going to be great for ratings!" Stevens said, shaking his head in amusement. "Fighting, bed pissing, sexual tension, jealousy and sabotage? Fucking awesome!"

Donald loosened his tie and leaned back in the chair. "Don’t forget we also have the next challenge coming up, and it’s a doozey. Not to mention the live elimination tomorrow night."

Stevens grinned and shoved a handful of crisps into his mouth, the crumbs littering the console. "I can’t wait to see what they say in the confessional!"

"Perhaps they’ll say nothing. It’s rather early on for them to be telling anything juicy."

"Yeah, I see what you mean." He brushed the crumbs away and chugged his Diet Coke, letting out a huge belch when he was done. "How long is she planning on staying in the house today?"

Donald stretched his arms above his head, yawning. "If I know her, she won’t stay very long. I give it another half an hour at the most- which is good, because we have that announcement to make to the men soon about the challenge."

………………

After Ron was so rudely told to bugger off, Draco and Hermione stood there in an uncomfortable silence. She didn’t know whether to bring up what nearly happened between them or to just pretend it never took place. Was he expecting her to pick up where they left off, or was that moment gone forever and never coming back? ‘God, I’m bad at this!’ she thought. Suddenly her empty stomach clenched and she felt dizzy from lack of food.

He was wondering if she was already regretting the ‘almost’ kiss and wasn’t sure if she expected him to try again. He wanted to try, but what if she didn’t? She was such a complex creature and he didn’t want to offend her. ‘She looks like she’s going to puke. Is that because the thought of kissing me is making her sick? She fucking hates me, I know it!’

Hermione was so scared that her stomach was going to let out a roar that she panicked. "I… well, I should go and mingle with the other guys like they want me to," she blurted out. "Not that I wouldn’t like to stay here… with you." She mentally rolled her eyes at her corniness.

Draco relaxed. She seemed sincere about wanting to spend more time with him. Maybe she did like him after all. "Okay. I have to get dressed anyway. So um… I’ll see you later?"

She grasped the doorknob and opened the door, slowly backing out. "Yeah, I guess so." She turned to leave so fast that she walked right into the doorway, smacking her forehead. She spun around, red-faced and mortified to see him smirking at her. "Clumsy me!" she said, rubbing the already forming lump. "Bye." She gave him a little wave and shut the door, leaning on it for a second while her heart beat slowed to normal, and then went in search of the others, her stomach growling fiercely.

………………

"We don’t know ahead of time what the challenges are, so how are we supposed to sabotage him, and what if it doesn’t work?" Ron asked. "I mean, I want the prick to get eliminated as much- maybe more- than anyone here, but there is no way to guarantee that he’ll lose. Hermione is ultimately the one who chooses who leaves and if she already has her mind set on Malfoy, then even if they never spend any more time alone, he’s still going to win in the end!"

"Then we have to make him look bad. Tell her…" Oliver was interrupted by Cormac clearing his throat and nodding towards the sliding glass doors where Hermione was coming through. "Morning, Hermione!" he called to her. "I’d get up, but it seems that I’ve injured my foot."

Hermione, who had always liked Oliver, was sincerely concerned. "Are you okay? What happened?" she asked, bending over to inspect his swelling, bare foot. "Did you put ice on it?" Not waiting for an answer, she immediately disappeared into the kitchen. 

"We’ll talk later," Oliver whispered.

They could hear her banging around and a few minutes later, she emerged with a plastic baggie full of crushed ice. "This should make the swelling go down. Now, how exactly did you hurt yourself?"

………………………

She spent the next hour sitting in the yard with the men, reminiscing about school and discussing what they thought the next challenge might be. Draco never came out, and she found herself wishing for his company. She did everything she could to get him off her mind- even playing a short game of one-on-one with Ron. 

"You lost to a girl, Weasley!" Cormac said, "Disgraceful!"

"Shut your trap, McLaggen. I don’t see you out here playing plasticball!"

"Basketball!" Hermione said, collapsing against Oliver, laughing her head off at his mistake. "It’s called basketball!" 

"Whatever," Ron said, sulking. He absolutely hated- hated to be made fun of. Oliver was now holding onto Hermione, bent over in hysterics. "Shut up, Wood!" Ron said, pelting the ball towards his head as hard as he could. Oliver, having amazing reflexes, ducked and the ball bounced off Blaise’s head instead. 

"What the fuck?" he shouted. "No, you did not just hit me with that dirty-ass ball!" He lifted the melting bag of ice from the table and dipped his handkerchief into it. "Do you have any idea how many germs are on that thing? How many infected people probably handled it before you?" He scrubbed the spot on his head where the ball hit him. "Ah! This won’t do, I have to take another shower!"

"But you’ve taken two this morning already!" Cormac said in disbelief. 

"Better safe than sorry," Blaise said, heading for the house. "I don’t want to take the chance that a rogue germ found it’s way into my nasal passage…"

…………….

Hermione made her way down the lot, wondering why Malfoy hadn’t even come out to say goodbye to her. Maybe she was seeing feelings in him that weren’t really there? Was he just playing with her so that he could win? Romance was just so damn confusing, and it made her head pound just thinking about it.

As she passed the trailer, Donald poked his head out the door again. "We’re about to make an announcement to the men, if you’d like to watch."

She climbed inside and took a seat next to Stevens. "Hey there, Mike!" she said. "Interesting morning, huh?"

"Very," he said. "But things are about to get even more interesting." 

The men were gathering in the living room in front of the plasma screen, and her heart leapt to her throat when she saw Draco saunter in. He was dressed casually in black jeans and a tight-fitting maroon t-shirt. His hair was still a little wet and looked tousled. Hermione thought he had never looked sexier- not even in his underwear. "What’s going on?" she asked Donald.

"Just a sec, Hermione," he said. "Stevens, get ready to roll tape on three, two, one- roll!"

Hermione saw Brian Oceancrest come up on the screen. "Morning, gentlemen!" he said, flashing that famous white smile. "In a few minutes, a package will be arriving. In it, you will find a list of songs along with a sample CD of each." He paused, letting this information sink in. "You must choose one song, learn it, and then tomorrow night you will be performing it for a panel of guest judges, who will pick the winner."

Brian smiled again. "Yes, men, this is your next challenge!"

In the trailer, Hermione turned to Stevens. "I see what you mean, Mike, this is going to get very interesting!" She watched the delivery man walk past the trailer and stop at the front door. He shifted the package under his arm and…

…………….

The doorbell rang. Brain said, "Good luck!" before he disappeared from the screen.

The men all looked at one another, none of them wanting to answer the door. 

"What the hell is a CD anyway?" Ron asked.


	8. 8

  
Author's notes: It's confession time!  


* * *

Hermione watched as Draco came to the door, accepted the package, and took it back into the room where it was snatched from his hands and torn open by Cormac. Inside were five envelopes, each addressed to one of the contestants. Opening them, they pulled out a sheet of paper with instructions, headphones, and a disc containing ten song choices.

"Do those discs all have the same songs on them?" she asked Donald curiously. 

"No," he answered, "I hand-picked them all myself. It’ll be interesting to see which song they choose." He took his seat and swiveled around to talk with her, while on the monitors the men where heading to their rooms to put on their headphones and listen to their songs. "So, how was your morning?" he asked with a sly grin.

"You know very well how it was!" Hermione said, her eyes sliding over the image of Draco on the screen. He was trying to figure out how to use the stereo, and he seemed to be getting frustrated. "It was interesting." She watched Draco finally figure out how to put in the disc. "And a little disturbing…" He slapped his hands over his ears, the music blaring as he searched desperately for the volume. 

Donald chuckled heartily, loving the way she was now frowning at him in annoyance. "Looked to me as if you and Mr. Malfoy were getting on very well. Do I sense a little romance blossoming?"

She managed to look away from the screen. "There is nothing going on between Malfoy and myself."

"Yet."

"Never," she said with a tinge of anger in her voice. "I was just trying to be nice, that’s all."

"Nice?" Donald asked, lifting his eyebrow. "Please, Hermione! I could sense the sexual tension all the way out here!" He saw her roll her eyes as if what he had witnessed didn’t happen. "I know what I saw, and what I saw was two people who could barely keep their hands off each other. Now, before you get all upset and protest at the top of your voice about how much you hate him and what a bastard he is, you better just stop and think about what really happened in there. Stop lying to yourself and stop refusing yourself the love and pleasure you so rightly deserve."

He reached out and put his hand on top of hers in a comforting manner. "I know what your past with him was like. I know everything that happened between you, your friends, and his family, but you can’t deny that he has changed. You can’t deny that he obviously feels something for you. Hell! He might have felt it all along and was just too much of a coward to tell you, and who could blame him really? We both know how he was raised and what he was led to believe."

She hadn’t thought about that. He did seem to be a changed man, but was it real or just a front? She thought maybe the latter was nearer the truth, and she kicked herself for not realizing it before. "Are you trying to tell me that all those years of being brainwashed by his mother and father have been forgotten?" she scoffed. "You can’t change over night. All those years of treating me like shit and all of the sudden he discovers he likes me?" she laughed, thinking herself stupid. "He’s obviously playing me. He wants to win and so he’s doing what ever he can to make sure he stays, just like the others. He’s no different from them."

"Hermione…"

She stood, no longer liking Donald’s company. "I see it now. I see how stupid I’ve been to think that he could actually have feelings for me- that anyone could ever love me. My mistake and it’ll never happen again. They’re here to play a game and so am I. If they think they’re going to make me a laughing stock, then they have another thing coming." She pulled away as he tried to stop her from leaving and ran from the trailer.

Donald watched her run to the limo, tears streaming down her face. He turned to Stevens, who was not doing a very good job at pretending he hadn’t heard of word of the conversation. "What do you think, Stevens? Do you think Mr. Malfoy is harboring real feelings for Hermione or do you think I’m imagining things?"

"Sir," Stevens said, unwrapping a candy bar, "more importantly, why does Mr. Malfoy keep going into the closet, and who the bloody hell is he talking to on that mobile phone of his?" He pointed to the screen where Draco had just crept from his room, phone in hand, and entered the hall closet. 

Donald leaned forward on the console. "Good question, Stevens. Perhaps we should get a mic in there."

…………………………

"Look, you moron," Draco whispered into the phone. "I just want your advice, not a speech about how wrong it is to cheat!"

He listened, his head cocked to the side. "Here are the song choices. No, I haven’t listened to them all! Just let me tell you the titles and then let me know which one I should sing. Stop laughing, you twit! You think this challenge makes me happy? I’m not looking forward to making an ass out of myself…" He listened some more, rolling his eyes as the person on the other end made jokes about his lack of a singing voice. The truth was that he had a pretty good voice, but not being sure how well the other men could sing, he wasn’t going to get his hopes up.

"I haven’t got all bloody day! Shut the hell up and do what I’m paying you to do… what did you just say? They’re what?" he almost shouted, before remembering he was supposed to be hiding. "I can’t believe they would even try…"

He was the one laughing now. "Sabotage?" Did those idiotic dickheads actually think they would be able to get rid of him that easily? "Do I have a plan?" He angrily swatted a coat sleeve out of his face. "Don’t I always have a damn plan?"

………………………..

Three hours later, Ron, Oliver, Blaise, and Cormac gathered around Draco’s bedroom door to listen to him practice. 

"He’s bloody awful!"

"Sounds like a cat being tortured, if you ask me!"

The noise coming from behind the closed door barely resembled singing. It made all the guys smile gleefully at one another. 

"Looks like we won’t have to fuck up his performance, he’s doing a great job of that himself!" Ron said, cringing as Draco hit a high note that threatened to blow out every window in the house.

"I thought I sucked!" Blaise said as they all tip-toed back into the living room. "He has the worst voice I’ve ever heard!"

"At least we can be sure he won’t be the one taking Hermione out on the next date," Oliver said, throwing himself down on the sofa. 

"You're right, because it’ll be me taking her out!" Ron said, pointing to himself. "In fact, I’m going to put all of you to shame. Maybe you should just quit now and save yourselves some embarrassment!"

"Please, Weasley!" Cormac said, thumping him in the back of the head. "I could out sing you any day of the week!"

"Ow! You disease!" Ron said, rubbing the sore spot. "Hit me again and I’ll break your fucking arm."

"You’re all talk, Weasley…"

"Oh, yeah, McLaggen?" Ron shouted, putting up his fists. "Let’s go right now! You and me…"

Suddenly the screen on the wall came to life and there was Brian Oceancrest, his handsome face lit up with excitement. "Can I have your attention please? It’s time for confession…" He motioned towards the closed door to his left. "You will enter one at a time. This is your chance to get everything off your chest; confess all. Remember that no one but the audience at home will hear what you have to say." He looked around. "Where is Mr. Malfoy?"

"I’ll get him," Blaise said. A few minutes later, he came back in, Draco following close behind. "I had to pound on the door like a nutter to be heard over all that… singing," he said as Draco shot him a dirty look.

Brian, who had been waiting very impatiently, smiled again. After all, he had to look good for all the ladies who would be watching at home. He called Oliver’s name first. "Please step inside and close the door behind you."

Oliver entered the small, padded room, took a seat on the chair in front of the camera, and looked around uncomfortably. "Er… um…" he shrugged his shoulders. "I don’t exactly know what I’m supposed to say here…" He heard Donald’s angry voice yell out from thin air, making him almost piss his pants. 

"For God’s sake, man, just say something, don’t sit there looking daft. Confess!"

Oliver said the first thing that came to his mind. "When I was four and a half, I accidentally set the dog on fire and tried to put it out with my father’s cloak, but that caught on fire and so I panicked and threw it on the bed and then the blankets caught fire and the dog was running around yipping and it ran into the wall, setting the curtains on fire and…

"Okay!" Donald shouted. "That’s enough! Send in the next, please. Stupid, brain-dead…" he said under his breath. Stevens was laughing and as punishment for his joyfulness, he got a slap in the head, making him choke on his beef jerky.

Cormac sauntered in, jumped over the arm of the chair, and sat down. "Confess, huh?" he said with a grin that exposed his deteriorating teeth. "The only thing I have to confess is that this morning I used Zabini’s toothbrush to smooth down my armpit hair." He guffawed at the camera and then left.

"That man is disturbed…" Donald said to Stevens, who totally agreed. If they thought Cormac was crazy, they were even more shocked when Blaise came in to confess.

He walked in slowly, making sure his clothing never rubbed against the walls. He closed the door with a gloved hand and then pulled out a starched-white handkerchief and dusted off the chair before sitting down on the edge, his back nowhere near the back of the chair.

"I have to confess to a crime I’ve committed."

Donald was about to protest and tell him that’s not what they meant he should confess, but Stevens convinced him to just let the man talk.

"Last year, two men came to my house to rob me, or to possibly infect me. I didn’t want to die like my wife and child, so I killed them."

In the control room, Donald and Stevens were too shocked to move, or even blink. Donald had known of course about the death of Blaise’s daughter and his wife, and how it had made him all crazy, but never did he suspect the man was a killer.

"They are buried in the basement. I feel no remorse for what I’ve done. That is all. Thank you." He got up and stiffly walked to the door, but before he could leave, Donald’s voice came over the speakers. "Mr. Zabini, if what you say is true, I will have to notify the authorities, you do know that, don’t you?"

Blaise, his hand on the doorknob, paused. He didn’t want to go to jail. There were bugs, viruses, and unsanitary conditions, not to mention homosexuals who would rape you in the middle of the night. No, he definitely did not want to go to jail. He plastered a fake smile on his face and turned around. "Ha Ha!" he said, slapping his leg. "I got you! I was just joking!"

"You were just joking about killing two men and burying them in your basement?" Donald asked, not believing him for a second. "That’s not something to joke about, Mr. Zabini." He was seriously going to call the Ministy and have them look into the situation, but why tell him that? "You had me there for a minute. I really thought you were a cold-blooded killer!"

Blaise gave him another fake laugh and hauled ass from the room before he could be questioned further.

"He’s really a killer, isn’t he?" Stevens asked, looking at Donald with wide, scared eyes.

"I don’t know, but I’m going to find out, and another thing, we’re going to have to edit the hell out of that scene!”

Brian invited Ron into the confessional and as soon as he was seated, he pulled out huge bag of crisps and began eating, talking with his mouth full. "Let’s see…"

"That man eats more than you do!" Donald said to Stevens. "Unbelievable!"

Ron picked crumbs from the front of his T-shirt and stuck them into his mouth. "Okay, so I must confess that I hate Malfoy more than anything and if I could, I’d…" He shoved a handful of crisps into his mouth and chewed. "I’d shave off his blond hair and poke out his eyes with a hot stick. I’d burn all his fancy, rich clothes and I’d smash his pretty face in with a brick…" He lifted the empty bag to his mouth, tilted his head back and the crumbs from the bag fell onto his face, his clothes, the chair, and the floor. He crinkled up the bag noisily. "I hate him and I’ll do anything I can to make sure he never gets Hermione. That’s all I have to confess."

"Jealous much?" Stevens said as Ron left the room.

Donald just laughed in agreement.

Draco came in and sat down, looking agitated. He put his foot on the knee of his other leg and shook it fiercely as if nervous. He almost immediately removed it, leaning forward into the camera instead. "I’m going to confess something that I’ve never told anyone," he said in a soft voice. He looked over his shoulder, checking to see if he was being spied on. 

Donald and Stevens leaned into the monitors, curious about what Draco was about to reveal.

Draco now sat back against the chair, raked his fingers through his hair and then sat forward again. "Okay. I can do this."

"I wonder what’s making him so nervous," Donald asked. Draco Malfoy was a man who was always calm, cool, and collected. He could not imagine what secrets he was harboring that could be making him act this way.

"I… I think I’m falling in love with Gran… I mean Hermione."

Donald and Stevens smiled at each other.

"It’s not like we’ve just met and I’m one of those simpering fools who proclaims their undying love after a day. I’ve known her for years and there were times- many times- when I found myself thinking about her, wishing things could have been different and that I could have maybe asked her out or something." He sighed and sat back again. "I’m probably being stupid, right?" he asked out loud. "Thinking that after all we’ve been through- every horrible thing I’ve ever done to her, that she might- just might be able to have feelings for me. He ran his fingers through his hair again, thinking. "Call me crazy, but this morning I could have sworn that she felt something for me too."

"Oh, she did, Mr. Malfoy," Donald said to the monitor. "Only she’s too stubborn to admit it."

Draco sighed again and stood up. "That’s about all I have for today." He left the room and went back to join the others, who were talking- discussing something. That discussion ceased as soon as he walked in.

"You just boosted ratings, Mr. Malfoy! I can’t wait to roll this tomorrow night!" Donald said, almost jumping for joy.

Brian thanked the men and then they all dispersed back to their rooms to practice. The hours were dwindling down and the time to perform their songs was drawing closer and closer.

………………….. 

An hour later, Hermione, who was in the middle of reading her favorite book, was interrupted by a knock on her door. She laid the book aside and answered it, finding Myra Shanks and a camera man standing there.

"Time for your confession, Miss Granger!" the tall former model said, waltzing into the room.

"Confession?" Hermione asked, confused. "I don’t remember anything about me having to confess- the guys yes, but not me."

"Orders from the big boss man himself. You’ll remember in your contract, page one hundred and sixty-two, paragraph twelve… that we have the right…’

"To change the rules any time you see fit. Yeah, yeah, I remember," Hermione said. 

"Good!" Myra said, "Whenever you’re ready."

……………………

Harry moaned in exasperation. Not only had the Weasley clan come over to watch the show, but Neville, Seamus, Dean, Luna, Parvati, Lavender, some friends of Arthur’s from work, and Ginny’s entire Quidditch team had shown up.

"I guess word got around that you have a telly and everyone wants to watch the show. I’m sorry," Ginny said apologetically, "I just couldn’t help myself. I had to tell everyone!"

"Where’s your loo?" some stinky obese man in dark blue robes asked. 

"Who the hell are you?" Harry snapped.

"Friend of Bill’s. He said it would be all right if I came…"

Harry looked over at Bill, who just shrugged his shoulders. "It’s through there." He pointed towards the door. "Hey! Watch the…table…" The fat man had bumped the snack table, knocking the punch bowl to the floor.

"I’ll get it!" Ginny said, hurrying over to clean up the sticky mess.

"It’s coming on! It’s coming on!" Parvati and Lavender squealed.

"Shhh!" everyone said, settling down to watch.

The theme song came on and then Brian Oceancrest appeared, looking dashing and very stylish, flashing those pearly whites. Every woman in the room gave an audible sigh of desire.

"Last time on Can You Feel the Love, five men received the shock of their lives when they were introduced to a woman from their past; a woman who was once plain and ordinary, but is now a gorgeous sexpot- Hermione Granger!"

A clip popped up of Hermione walking into the room and the looks of utter shock on the faces of the men.

"A fight broke out when Ron, Hermione’s ex, claimed she was still his. This claim didn’t go over too well with the others."

They showed a second or two of the fight, and Hermione sitting nice and cozy on the sofa next to Draco.

"We had a special guest judge, Chef Jordan Samsey, in to pick the winner of the challenge," Brian said, nodding his head and lowering his eyes. "Which didn’t start off very well…"

There was a montage of comical moments from the cooking challenge, including the can of spinach exploding in Ron’ face, a close up of Blaise making his casserole, Draco watching in disbelief as Oliver spread peanut butter on celery, Cormac giving Ron ‘advice’, the pan going up in flames, Oliver throwing water on everyone, and Hermione and Draco putting out the fire with the extinguisher. The last clip was of everyone standing there as the sprinklers went off.

Brian was back. He winked, making the ladies swoon. "But, after everything was under control, Chef Samsey still had to judge the dishes the contestants had prepared."

They showed the Chef lifting the lid on Blaise’s mess of a meal and almost puking at the very sight of it. He was asking Oliver how old he was and referring to his meal as a daycare snack. Next was Draco, who was the first to have made something edible. He moved on to Ron, who was stupid enough to present a tuna sandwich with a bite taken out of it. Chef Samsey ripped him a new one before moving onto Cormac, who was his savior.

"You, my boy, are amazing! Simply amazing! I think we have our winner!" 

Parvati turned to Lavender, "Ew, did you see McLaggen’s teeth? I can’t even believe he’d let himself go like that."

"I know. He wasn’t that bad looking back at Hogwarts, a bit of a smug asshole, but still kind of cute," Lavender said. "And I can’t believe that Chef person actually tasted what he cooked, I mean, who knows where his hands had been…" 

They were now showing Draco and Ron talking heatedly with one another. They then showed Draco enter the house, go into his room and lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling as though he were totally upset.

They cut back to Brian. "We’ll go with Hermione on her date right after these messages." The commercials came on and everyone began to discuss the show.

"I do think that Draco wanted to go on that date with Hermione. I think maybe he really likes her, don’t you?" Luna asked the room. "Did you see how sad he looked?"

Harry just about lost it. "He doesn’t look sad because he’s missed out on being alone with Hermione on a date, he’s just mad because McLaggen beat him!"

"I don’t know, Harry," Dean said. "They looked awful lovey-dovey when she fell into his lap!"

"Hermione does not like him!" Harry said vehemently as everyone nodded or voiced that they agreed with Dean. "She’s going to pick Ron, not Malfoy!"

"Why would she pick Ron?" Parvati asked. "He cheated on her!"

"She had better not chose him, or I’ll lose all of the respect I have for her," Molly said.

"But he’s your son!" Harry said, shocked. 

"I know that Harry, dear, but I just don’t think they belong together."

"And you think that she belongs with Malfoy?" Harry asked, red-faced with anger.

"If that’s who’s going to make her happy- yes."

"I don’t believe this!"

"Harry, just calm down! This is only the second episode. We don’t know that she’s not going to forgive Ron and take him back, or if she’s going to pick Malfoy. Hell, maybe she’ll surprise us all and choose Zabini instead!" Seamus said.

"Shhh!" Neville said. "It’s back on."

Everyone in the room laughed when McLaggen told his side of why he had gotten beaten up, when down in the corner at the same time, they were showing some of what really happened. They then showed what went on in the restaurant.

"The date was hilarious, especially when the waiter tripped and spilled the food all over him!" one of Ginny’s fellow Quidditch players said. "But he did deserve it after insulting her that way!"

Brian’s gorgeous face appeared once more on the screen. "So it’s obvious that Hermione didn’t enjoy herself… but it’s safe to say that she did enjoy herself the next morning when a chance encounter in the kitchen almost led to… a kiss."

Harry’s face grew redder and redder as the scene progressed, and he had to actually get up and leave the room when Draco and Hermione were alone in the dark getting ready to fornicate. "I can’t watch this!" he said and fled, Ginny not far behind.

"Harry!"

"What?"

She pulled him to a stop. "I know you’re upset, but you can’t just leave our guests like that. It’s rude."

"Rude?" he asked, trying to get out of her grip. Her arms were very strong thanks to Oliver and his Quidditch practices, and he couldn’t get away. You’re the one who invited all these people over here without asking me first. Now that’s rude!”

“We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about Hermione,” Ginny said, trying to sway the conversation away from herself. “Remember? We were discussing how much you don’t want her with Malfoy?”

"There is no way I can watch Hermione make the worst mistake of her life!" Harry said, taking the bait.

"Please, Harry. Just remember that this show is two months long. We don’t know what’s going to happen, do we?" She hugged him, crushing his glasses into his face. "I understand that you want her to be with Ron, but you don’t get to choose, do you? We have to accept her decisions, and when have you known Hermione to make any type of decision without researching it first?"

"Never," he said, managing a smile.

"So we just have to trust her, don’t we?"

He didn’t want to trust her; what he wanted was this show to never have happened. He had plans to get Ron and Hermione back together, he knew he could have done it, but now all his plans were shot to hell. "I guess," he said half-heartedly.

"Come on, you big baby!" she said, pulling him back down the hall. "Let’s finish watching the show."

"What did we miss?" Ginny asked. "Did they kiss?"

"No, Ron interrupted, but Zabini did get hit in the head with a basketball!" Neville said happily. "And they all want to get together and sabotage Malfoy so he doesn’t get to be alone with Hermione."

"Oh, and zey announced ze next challenge. Zey have to sing!" Fleur said, her excitement apparent. 

They showed scenes of the men practicing their songs, and most everyone thought Blaise was actually the best and that Malfoy was the worst by far!

Confession was fun to watch and more than once, laughter rang out through the flat, but when it came time for Malfoy to say what was on his mind- the laughter all died in their throats.

"Did he just say that he thinks he’s in love with Hermione?" Arthur asked out loud. "He did, didn’t he?"

"I told you!" Luna said happily. 

Ginny looked over at Harry, who was staring at the floor, biting the inside of his cheek. "Harry…"

"I don’t want to talk about it, Gin."

They were all shocked when they showed Hermione confessing. "I confess that I was a complete idiot! I actually almost fell for Malfoy’s little act!" she said with bitter laughter. "I’m glad I came to my senses and realized that he’s just playing the game. Trying to trick me into thinking he’s changed and that he has feelings for me!" 

She snorted and rolled her eyes. "He’s just like the rest of them, they’ll do anything to win, including stomping all over my heart! How dare he make me like him when all he’s going to do is take the money in the end and make me look like a fool!" Her face became dead serious. "I will not let him fool me again. I will not fall for his charm and sex appeal. I will not let myself fall in love with him…" 

They cut back to Brian, who raised his eyebrow to the camera. "Seems like Hermione is trying to talk herself into believing something, doesn’t it? If she only knew how Draco really felt

The camera zoomed out, showing the people at home the backyard, which had now been turned into a stage. "When we come back, we’ll meet our guest judges and the first man will attempt to woo Hermione with their talent- or lack thereof…" 

They cut to commercial.

…………………

Donald walked onto the set. "Weasley! Are you ready?" Ron looked the color of cottage cheese, but gave him a thumb-up. "Oceancrest, stop checking yourself out in the mirror and get your happy ass back in front of the camera!" He walked around mentally checking off items on his list. ‘Judges are in place at the table, songs are cued up, lighting is in place…’ "Oceancrest, get your ass up on the stage, will you?"

"Sir! One minute!" someone yelled.

Donald took his place in the control room where five more people had joined Stevens. "In three, two, one!" he motioned that they had gone live.

"Welcome back to Can You Feel the Love!" Brian said to thunderous applause from the few hundred people they had managed to squeeze into the yard. "In just a few minutes, Ron Weasley will take the stage, but first, let me introduce you to our panel of guest judges."

"Camera two! Pan the table. Camera three, focus on the big black man!" Donald said into the headset.

"You might recognize them from the talent competition, US Idol. All the way from America, may I introduce… Sandy Jackman!" The camera zoomed in on a heavy-set black man, who was wearing sunglasses and numerous gold rings. He was also saying ‘What up dawgs?’ and hooting like a monstrous owl.

"And the lovely… Miss Paulina Abdulla!" There sat a beautiful, petite, brown-haired woman, who was smiling warmly.

"And last but certainly not least… Simon Scowell!" The audience booed and he just rolled his eyes as if totally bored and annoyed. 

"And may I introduce, the woman who these contestants will try to impress… the gorgeous, the sexy… Hermione Granger!"

There were whistles and cat calls as she walked out onto the stage. She was wearing a stunning, tight, lavender dress that fell to mid-calf, silver jewelry, and high heeled shoes. Her hair was down but held back from her face with an amethyst and sliver clip. After the noise ceased she said the corny speech that had been prepared for her.

"They say that music soothes the savage beast. Here is your chance to prove that you can soothe the beast in me!" She gave a sexy growl and the crowd went wild again.

Brian watched Hermione walk off stage- maybe a little too closely- and after giving the camera a look that said ‘damn she’s hot!’, he introduced Ron. "And now for your listening pleasure is Ronald Weasley, singing ‘Simply Irresistible’ by Robert Palmer!


	9. 9

  
Author's notes: It's time for the next challenge. Hermione does something shocking that causes a fight and Draco tries to plead his case.  


* * *

A/N: So, I think everyone will recognize the songs I have chosen for the contestants. The only one you might not know is Cormac’s. I suggest you go to youtube, type in Depeche Mode It’s Understood and check it out, I think it fits him perfectly! I based his outfit and his performance on the video.

 

Ron came out, dressed in a suit and tie, and tripped over his own feet, managing to grab the mic stand before falling on his face. He cleared his throat as the music started and then in a soft, barely audible voice, he began to sing:

How can it be permissible  
She compromise my principle 

That kind of love is mythical  
She's anything but typical

He gulped, loosened his tie, and tried to pretend he was just back home in his room, singing in front of the mirror with his wand. He could see every individual face in the crowd and the lights were so damn hot that sweat was already pouring down his face. His heart was hammering in his chest as he sang the next verse:

 

She's a craze you'd endorse, she's a powerful force  
You're obliged to conform when there's no other course  
She used to look good to me, but now I find her

He switched the mic to his other hand and sang a little louder, becoming more and more confident:

 

Simply irresistible  
Simply irresistible

He scanned the front row and his eyes met Hermione’s which were hard and uncaring- hateful almost, and a powerful surge of anger coursed through his body. How dare she toss him aside like a used toy and move on to Malfoy! What a heartless bitch! He got into the song more and more as he thought about how she was treating him.

 

Her loving is so powerful, huh  
It's simply unavoidable  
The trend is irreversible  
The woman is invincible

She was a bitch, but look how damn hot she was now! Sure, she wanted me back when she was boring and ugly, but now that she’s gorgeous… He looked directly at her as he sang the next part:

 

She's a natural law, and she leaves me in awe  
She deserves the applause, I surrender because  
She used to look good to me, but now I find her

 

Simply irresistible  
Simply irresistible

He was extremely confident now. He was the shit, he could win this and then she’d have to spend time alone with him! He’d be able to talk his way back into her life, he knew it! He looked down at her and sang:

 

Simply irresistible she's so fine, there's no tellin' where the money went  
Simply irresistible she's all mine, there's no other way to go

 

She's unavoidable, I’m backed against the wall  
She gives me feelings like I never felt before  
I'm breaking promises, she's breaking every law  
She used to look good to me, but now I find her

 

Simply irresistible  
She's so fine, there's no tellin' where the money went  
Simply irresistible she's all mine, there's no other way to go

He was into it now! He could feel the music, hear the crowd, and see the love of his life right there in front of him!

Her methods are inscrutable  
The proof is irrefutable, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh  
She's so completely kissable, huh  
Our lives are indivisible

 

She's a craze you'd endorse, she's a powerful force  
You're obliged to conform when there's no other course  
She used to look good to me, but now I find her

And then she did something that made his confidence fail completely and made him forget the rest of the song. She looked up at him, smiled sweetly, gave him the finger and mouthed ‘I hate you’. He watched, crushed, as she turned and made her way through the crowd, headed towards the backstage area. He was sure she was going back there to wish Malfoy good luck. Maybe she’d even give him a kiss… He had lost her forever, hadn’t he? There was no way she was ever going to take him back. Reality hit him like a ton of bricks and he no longer cared about winning- he no longer cared about anything.

The music kept playing but he just stood there as his world came crashing down around him. Finally, after seeing that he was no longer even attempting to finish the song, the music stopped and the only sound became the chirping of crickets. He was suddenly coated in sweat, everything looked dark and his stomach lurched. He thought maybe he shouldn’t have eaten that whole stick of pepperoni or that entire box of Pop Tarts before the challenge.

Brian looked around, unsure of what to do. "Well, it looks as if someone has forgotten the words…" he said, walking towards Ron, whose face was now drained of all color as he swayed dangerously on his feet.

………………………

"He’s gonna hurl!" Ginny said, just as her brother dropped the mic, turned, and threw up all over the stage, splattering Brian’s shoes with chunks of regurgitated pepperoni and blueberry Pop Tart.

"Oh my God!" Parvati said, covering her mouth. "That is just gross!"

"Well, I’d say his chances of winning now are slim to none." Bill said, shaking his head sadly.

"Ya think?" Lavendar snorted.

………………….

"Damn it!" Donald yelled. "Cut to commercial! Cut to Commericial!" He paced back and forth, breathing deeply, trying to remain calm. "Okay, someone clean up the puke, get Oceancrest another pair of bloody shoes and for God’s sake get Weasley some Pepto Bismol!"

"Sir, we’re back on in…" Stevens ducked as Donald’s hand flashed through the air, attempting to smack him in the head.

"I know how much longer we have!"

………………

Backstage, Draco attempted to speak to Hermione as she walked past. "Granger…"

Hermione stopped and turned, crossing her arms over her chest impatiently. "What is it, Malfoy?"

Draco was taken aback by her attitude. Earlier that morning she had been friendly and now she looked like she wanted to rip his head off and use it as a Bludger. "I just wanted to tell you how nice you look."

"Oh, really?" she snapped. "Trying to win me over by using compliments? That is really pathetic, Malfoy. I expected something more imaginative from you."

"Trying to win you over?" he asked, becoming angry. "I was simply stating a fact…"

"No, you weren’t. We both know that the elimination is tonight and you’re just trying to make sure you stay by any means possible- including trying to seduce me this morning and giving me nice compliments that you don’t mean!"

"Try to seduce…" He gaped at her in disbelief. "You know you wanted to kiss me just as much as I wanted to kiss you!"

Blaise and Oliver were standing there, smirking and giddy that Hermione was sticking it to Malfoy.

"I’ll never kiss you. Hell, I’d rather kiss anyone but you!"

"Right…" he said, rolling his eyes. "You can deny it all you want, Granger, but everyone knows…" He stopped in mid protest of her ludicrous lie and almost gasped out loud in astonishment as she grabbed Oliver by the front of his shirt, pulled him in and kissed him passionately. 

Oliver was shocked, but it didn’t take him long to kiss her back. He placed his hand gently at the back of her neck and pulled her even closer, their tongues wrestling seductively in each others mouths. She was making tiny moaning noises and was pressing herself against him so hard that he could feel her nipples. He had to admit that it was perhaps the sexiest kiss he had ever had in his life- and that was saying a lot!

"Oh, fuck!" Cormac said, running up, looking like Christmas has come early. "Weasley just blew chunks all over… What the hell…" He stopped laughing and stood next to Draco, looking equally appalled and devastated as Hermione and Oliver sucked face.

"Get out of the damn way!" Brian yelled, knocking over the camera man who was intently filming the snogging action. He kicked off his shoes and someone handed him another nice, new, shiny pair. "I can’t believe that that moron puked on me!" 

Ron walked by, holding his stomach and when he saw Hermione, he totally lost it. Pushing through the gawking crowd, he grabbed Oliver by the back of his shirt and punched him dead in the face. "You fucking bastard! How dare you steal my girl!" he said, jumping on him and sending them both tumbling to the ground. "I’ll break your fucking pretty-boy face, you cock sucker!" He was gone- he was no longer in his right mind as he punched and beat the living shit out of Oliver.

"Ron, get off him!" Hermione screamed. She rushed forward to pull them apart, but was held back by Draco, who held on to her protectively. 

"Come on!" he said, pulling her through the throngs of people. He led her through a door, down some steps, and to a secluded spot further down the yard. He looked around and was annoyed to see that a camera man was tagging right along behind them. "For God’s sake! Can’t we have a little privacy?"

"Don’t yell at me, I’m just doing my job!" the camera man said.

Draco snapped, "We’ll just see how long you keep that job!"

"Draco, please! Shouldn’t we go back?" Hermione asked, tears welling up in eyes. "What if Oliver…"

"We’re not going back, Hermione, until we get a few things straight."

………………………

"Sir," Stevens said. "We’ve got a situation back stage!"

Donald looked at the bank of monitors and then took off, running as fast as he could through the yard. "Damn it! What next?" He pushed his way through the crowd, knowing he only had limited time to get the situation under control before they went live again. "What he hell is going on here?" He snatched a hold of Ron’s arm and yanked him to his feet. "I want everyone back to their positions! We go live in sixty seconds." 

Someone helped a bleeding and disheveled Oliver to his feet. For all of Ron’s hitting, he really wasn’t in that bad of shape. He had managed to cover his face and the only thing bleeding was his nose from the initial punch.

Ron was still fighting, trying to get loose. Donald had zero patience left. "Weasley, you had better calm down right now, before I’m tempted to kick your ass myself!"

Ron relaxed, and Donald loosened his death grip. "Now get yourself cleaned up and get on the stage right now! Oceancrest?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Clump?" Brian said.

"On stage, now! Recap first, clips and then we go to the judges responses."

"Yes, Mr.Clump."

"And take this puke machine with you!" He shoved Ron toward Brian, who cringed. "Someone hand me a headset!" One was shoved in his hand and he put it on. "Let Oceancrest talk and then roll the kissing footage and some of the fight before we go back to the judges." He spun around and pointed at Cormac. "You’re next so get your shit together and get ready to go on!"

Donald watched everyone scurry around like roaches in the sunlight. "Stevens?" he said into the headset.

"Yes, sir, I’m here."

"You’re in charge. Don’t screw this up or I’ll have to fire you!"

"Yes sir, Mr. Clump!" the happiness and excitement in his voice was apparent. "I’ll make you proud!"

…………………

Stevens stood up, intently checking the monitors. "Camera one, pan the audience! Camera two on the judges! Camera three…" he looked around for the operator of that particular camera, and finally found him shooting footage of Hermione and Draco talking heatedly. "Right, camera three, stay on it! Camera four on the stage. Head shot of Oceancrest and then zoom out to a two shot of him and Weasley!" He was rubbing his hand together, totally enjoying the charge he was getting from being the boss. "We go live in three, two, one!"

………………….

"Welcome back to Can You Feel the Love!" Brian said, beaming as if he hadn’t had chunks of food spewed onto his expensive shoes only a few minutes earlier. Yep, everything was hunky-dory! Never happened! "Let’s recap the show so far tonight, shall we? Ron Weasley preformed Simply Irresistible by Robert Palmer, and after a shaky start, he was really getting into it, but then…"

They flashed a clip of Ron forgetting the words and then throwing up. "Let’s just say that I had to burn my shoes!" He smiled brightly, and next to him, Ron fidgeted, obviously embarrassed beyond belief. "And then…" Brian said, lowering his voice like he was going to tell the audience a deep, dark secret. "Total pandemonium broke out back stage."

There were scenes of Draco and Hermione arguing, the kiss and then Ron going ballistic on Oliver. "Never a dull moment around here!" He said with a tiny laugh. "Remember, not only will the winner of this challenge receive a prize of fifteen thousand pounds, but they will also be immune from the elimination and…" he stressed this last word’s importance. "They will also get a weekend… alone on a private beach… with the lovely Hermione!" There was loud whistles and applause. "And now, our very patient judges will critique Ron Weasley’s performance!"

Ron felt like barfing again. He knew his performance sucked ass, but to be told to your face that it did was nauseating.

"Yo, look," Sandy Jackman said, "It started off a little blah for me, but towards the middle, it was better." He made a face as if he was even painful for him to talk about it. "But dude, you totally messed it up at the end there! It was painful to watch…" He looked over at Paulina, who was smiling like everything was just perfect.

"Ron…" she said happily.”You are so handsome, you know that?

There was some clapping and beside her, Simon pulled the pen he had been chewing out of his mouth and rolled his eyes at her annoying sweetness. Ron smiled back at her, thankful that this was a woman who apparently hated to tell the truth- she’d rather lie her ass off than hurt someone’s feelings.

"It could have ended better, right? But you did your best and that’s all that matters. You’re a winner in my eyes!"

Simon couldn’t hold his tongue any longer. "Are you on drugs?" he asked her. "The best part of that whole performance was the puking!" There were loud boos along with scattered applause. "The whole thing was a train wreck from start to finish. Bloody awful!" 

Ron wilted in his shoes. He knew this man was telling the truth, but it still hurt to hear it put so bluntly. 

"Thank you for your valued opinions!" Brian said. "What did you think of what they said, Ron?" he asked, turning towards him.

Ron just shrugged his shoulders and then was ushered off the stage looking defeated and depressed.

…………….

Meanwhile, off in the distance, Draco and Hermione were getting a few things straight- or not.

"I don’t want to hear anything you have to say!" she said, trying once more to get away. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "Let go of me, Malfoy!"

"Not until you tell me why you’re suddenly acting like such a bitch towards me!" He had to stop himself from shaking the shit out of her. She was so damn infuriating!

She stopped fighting to get free from his grip and turned on him in fury. "You want to know why? I don’t like to be played, Malfoy, and that’s exactly what you’re trying to do. You dragged me away from the fight just so you could try to use your charms and lies to get me to not eliminate you tonight!"

Draco could not believe what a ridiculous situation this was. Here he had the chance, after many long years, to show her how he felt about her, and instead of returning his feelings like he knew she wanted to do, she was talking herself into hating him! "I dragged you out here, not to get on your good side, but because I wanted to be alone with you to tell you…"

She wrenched her arm away and turned to leave. "I told you, I don’t want to hear anything you have to say, all you do is lie, you always have." God, she wanted more than anything for him to really feel the way he was pretending, but she knew it was all a big joke. "And the only way you’re ever going to be alone with me again is to win this stupid challenge!" she said over her shoulder as she quickly walked away.

Draco stood there, alone in the moonlight with the camera man. "If that’s what I have to do…" he said softly, watching her walk across the lawn. 

……………….

"May I introduce, singing "It’s no Good by Depeche Mode, Cormac McLaggen!"

Cormac sauntered onto the stage. He was dressed like a pimp, wearing 1970’s salmon-colored, tight, bell-bottom pants and a matching jacket, a paisley print silk shirt underneath which was unbuttoned to show his many gold chains. On his head, he wore a white fedora with a huge feather stuck in the side. On his feet were white platform boots, and on his face was plastered a smug smile. He grabbed the mic and the music started. It was a mixture of disco and techno that was quite unique.

I’m gonna take my time  
I have all the time in the world  
To make you mine  
It is written in the stars above  
The god’s decree  
You’ll be right here by my side  
Right next to me  
You can run but you cannot hide

He was strutting and acting pompous, as if he actually believed every word he was singing applied to himself and every girl on the planet. Wiggling his eyebrows, he sang the chorus:

Don’t say you want me  
Don’t say you need me  
Don’t say you love me  
It’s understood  
Don’t say you’re happy  
Out there without me  
I know you can’t be  
‘Cause it’s no good 

He winked at the audience and did some disco moves as the music played. He grabbed the mic again, leaning into the stand and singing to the crowd, who was loving his performance.

I’ll be fine  
I’ll be waiting patiently  
Till you see the signs  
And come running to my open arms  
When will you realize  
Do we have to wait till our world collide  
Open up your eyes  
You can’t turn back the tide  
Don’t say you want me  
Don’t say you need me  
Don’t say you love me  
It’s understood  
Don’t say you’re happy  
Out there without me  
I know you can’t be  
‘Cause it’s no good

He let go of the mic stand, twirled around, did some rolling arm movements and some fancy footwork before doing a split and coming right back up to sing the final verse:

I’m gonna take my time  
I’ve got all the time in the world  
To make you mine  
It is written in the stars above

He was acting totally conceited, making facial expressions like he knew every woman in the audience was hot for him. He blew them kisses and then sang the final chorus:

Don’t say you want me  
Don’t say you need me  
Don’t say you love me  
It’s understood  
Don’t say you’re happy  
Out there without me  
I know you can’t be  
‘Cause it’s no good

He concluded with some more disco moves and then an overly dramatic bow. The people in the audience were on their feet, clapping and cheering as Brian made his way onto the stage. Sandy Jackman struggled to be heard over the noise.

He was grinning. "Yo! Yo! That was the bomb, baby!" he said excitedly. "Yeah!"

Paulina was on her feet, clapping. "Brilliant, Cormac, simply brilliant!"

Cormac nodded his head as if saying ‘of course it was brilliant, you fucking stupid cunt. It’s me after all!’

The noise died down as Simon Scowell prepared to tear his ass apart. "Look, Cormac," he said, throwing his pen down and crossing his arms over his chest. "The performance part was just okay," there was some booing, " and some of the dancing reminded me of a Shaft on crack, but all in all, it was just okay." The boos were louder and someone shouted for him to shut the hell up. "Your singing on the other hand, was atrocious, and what’s with the outfit? Hideous…" 

"That’s fine, that’s fine," Cormac said, humoring Simon, who obviously had no taste whatsoever. 

"Another round of applause for Cormac McLaggen!" Brian shouted as Cormac left the stage. "Our next contestant, singing SexyBack by Justin Timberlake, is Oliver Wood!"

As Oliver took center stage, Draco was sitting on the back lawn, going over his song in his head. He was the last to sing, and was thankful for it. He had been surprised at how well Cormac had done, and was pretty sure Blaise was going to be tough competition. He had heard him sing before, and the man had serious talent. And then there was the sex appeal of Wood, who was about to perform. There was no denying that he had a way with the ladies- something Draco had never really possessed. All he had was a great song that he was going to sing for Hermione- a song he meant every word of.

…………..  
To be continued…

 

Additional Disclaimer: Lyrics in this chapter are not mine, they belong to Robert Palmer and Depeche Mode.


	10. 10

  
Author's notes: Oliver, Blaise and Draco take the stage!  


* * *

There were whistles and women screaming as Oliver took center stage. He was dressed in tight leather pants and his plain white shirt was totally unbuttoned. His hair was tousled and he wore a sensual, pouty look on his face that he had practiced in the mirror all day. He knew he was hot, and although he had never really used this fact to his advantage, he was going to tonight. 

The music started and he grabbed the mic from the stand so that he’d be free to move around and strut and make sure everyone got a look at just how damn hot he really was.

 

I’m bringing sexy back  
Them other boys don’t know how to act  
I think you're special, what's behind your back?  
So turn around and I'll pick up the slack.

 

His voice was smooth and he sang exactly it was heard on the disc. He could see this one girl in the front row, looking at him like she wanted to eat him with a spoon, so he focused in on her and sang:

 

Dirty babe  
You see the shackles  
Baby I’m your slave  
I’ll let you whip me if I misbehave  
It’s just that no one makes me feel this way

 

Hermione, not wanting to run into Ron or Draco backstage, decided to make her way back out front. She stood in the grass off to the side of the stage, watching the girl’s reactions to Oliver’s performance. She had to admit that he was very, very attractive, but he just wasn’t her cup of tea. Even though all the girls back at Hogwarts- Ginny included- had swooned over him, she just never was able to look at him as anything more than a friend.

I’m bringing sexy back  
Them other guys don’t know how to act  
Come let me make up for the things you lack  
'Cause you're burning up I gotta get it fast

 

I’m bringing sexy back  
You mother (bleeped out just in time) watch how I attack  
If that’s your girl you better watch your back  
Cause she’ll burn it up for me and that’s a fact

In the front row, some overly excited girl pulled off her knickers and tossed them on stage, where they hit Oliver in the face. He twirled them around his finger and then shoved them into the waist band of his tight, tight leather pants, winking at the flushed, love-struck girl.

Hermione laughed, thinking how much Oliver looked like he was enjoying himself. Her smile slowly faded from her face as she caught movement out of the corner of her eye and was shocked to see the silhouette of Draco. He was just standing there, leaning against a tree, watching her. He looked sad, almost tragic in his sorrow, and she found herself wondering if she was the cause of his pain. She instinctively took a step towards him out of concern, and was surprised when he simply smiled at her and then without a word, turned and headed backstage. ‘What the hell was that all about?’ she wondered, as she slowly brought her attention back to the stage where Oliver had just finished. 

Sandy Jackman turned around and waved his arms, trying to get some quiet so he could talk. "Yo, listen," he said to Oliver, who was now wiping the sweat from his brow with the discarded knickers. "I don’t know… it was just all right for me. There was some pitchy-ness and… I don’t know, it just didn’t do it for me." He turned to Paulina who was staring at Oliver with hearts in her eyes.

"Oliver," she said in a breathy voice. "The audience loves you- I love you! You are so handsome and so talented! 

Simon was rolling his eyes again. "Are you deaf?" he asked her. "That was bloody awful! I’ve seen this song performed better in a pub at two a.m. by a drunk with asthma. Karaoke at its worst!"

"You’re just jealous that he’s sexier than you!" Paulina said and the audience rose up with a loud ‘oooooohhhhh’!

"Please!" Simon said with a snort. "Let’s put it this way, I’m sure all the men in the audience found him sexy, if you know what I mean."

Brian interrupted the little spat, "Thank you, Oliver!" he said, clapping him on the back. "And as soon as we come back, Blaise Zabini will be taking the stage to sing!" He ushered Oliver off as fast as he could. He looked around suspiciously, went to a corner, pulled out a flask, and took a huge swig of vodka. In order to get through this catastrophe of a night, he was going to have to be blitzed. He took another drink, sprayed some Binaca into his mouth and went back on stage, smiling like he was supposed to.

……………..

Back at Harry’s flat, everyone was either getting up to go to the loo during the break, or discussing the show. 

"I think Oliver did the best so far, don’t you?" Parvati asked, obviously lusting after the buff Quidditch player. "Did you see those abs on him? Merlin I’d love to lick…"

"Hey!" Seamus said, "I do not want to hear your sick fantasies about other men!" He had never gotten used to the looks his attractive girlfriend got from other men and was constantly worried that she would leave him for some hot, buff man- like Wood.

"What do you think Zabini is going to sing? That Oceancrest bloke didn’t say," Bill asked, "Probably something about being clean and germ-free…" everyone laughed.

"I’m just very curious about Malfoy, I mean he seems so sincere about Hermione and yet I can’t help but think he’s full of shit and just playing her. It is Malfoy after all, can’t trust him right?" Angelina said as George massaged her shoulders. "He’s always been a little git, but maybe he’s changed…"

"Hmph," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Malfoy will never change. He was a jerk-off then, and he’s a jerk-off now. We all know what a sneaky little ferret he is and thank Merlin Hermione’s not falling for his lies."

"But what if he’s not lying?" Ginny asked. "What if all along, the way he treated her was a front he put on because he was afraid of his ‘forbidden’ feelings he was having for her? We all know how Lucius would have killed him if he had even suspected his only son was falling for a Muggle-born."

"That is just plain stupid!" Harry said, getting angry again. "If you like someone, you don’t call them ignorant names and you sure as hell don’t stand there and let them be tortured. Remember at Malfoy Manor? Remember how he just stood there and watched as Hermione screamed from the Cruciatus Curse?"

"But Harry, you weren’t up there when that happened, you were in the dungeon. You don’t know exactly what happened do you?" Arthur asked. "I’m not taking Draco’s side, but put yourself in his place. He was surrounded by Death Eaters and being forced to witness and participate in Merlin knows what. He was afraid for his life."

"If it were me and someone I loved was being hurt, I wouldn’t care about my own life, I’d rescue them at any cost," Harry said, his face red with anger and frustration.

"But he’s not you, Harry. We know Draco is capable of putting others before himself, look what he did just to protect his family. Sure, he was worried about his own skin as well and put hundreds of people at risk, but he did what he did because he thought it was his only option," Arthur said, trying to make Harry understand. He thought perhaps it was a losing battle because Harry and Draco were just too different. "Whatever you think of him, Harry, he is capable of love. He’s shown that whether you want to see it or not."

"It’s back on!" Lavender screeched. "Oh wow! Look how Blaise is dressed!"

……………….

Blaise was dressed in a floor-length, yellow, terrycloth robe with a ducky on the front, had a flowered shower cap on his head and was carrying a back scrubber. Brian was standing next to him, looking at him with an amused smile.

"And now, singing Splish Splash by Bobby Darin… is Blaise Zabini!" Brian shouted and walked off as the music started.

"Hey!" Cormac yelled to Ron and Oliver, "Check out Zabini!" They ran over and crowded around Hermione, who was still standing next to the stage. "He looks ridiculous!"

"He may look ridiculous, but I bet he can sing better than any of you," Hermione said, as Blaise started his performance.

"You’re on," Cormac said. "Twenty Galleons says he blows." He and Hermione shook on it.

…………………..

Splish Splash, I was takin' a bath (he pretended to wash himself with the back scrubber)  
Long about a Saturday night, yeah  
Rub-a-dub, just relaxin' in the tub  
Thinkin' everything was alright

 

Well, I stepped out the tub, put my feet on the floor, (he jumped one foot at a time in quick succession)  
I wrapped the towel around me   
And I opened the door, and then  
Splish, Splash! I jumped back in the bath (he jumped back as if surprised)  
Well how was I to know there was a party going on

Blaise grabbed the mic stand and started dancing. He was awesome and the audience went wild as he did some amazing foot work.

 

They was a-splishin' and a-splashin',   
Reelin' with the feelin', moving and a-groovin,  
Rockin' and a-rollin', yeah!

He made the mic stand almost hit the floor and then brought it back up, let go of it and spun around.

Bing bang, I saw the whole gang  
Dancing on my living room rug, yeah!  
Flip flop, they was doing the bop  
All the teens had the dancin bug

 

There was lollipop with-a Peggy Sue  
Good Golly, Miss Molly was-a even there, too!  
A-well-a, Splish Splash, I forgot about the bath  
I went and put my dancin shoes on, yeah...

He ripped off the robe and cap, and underneath he was wearing black chinos that were a little short, a black silk shirt with a thigh-length white jacket, white socks, and penny loafers. He really started dancing now, taking the mic from the stand he did some moves reminiscent of a young Elvis as he sang:

 

I was a rollin' and a strollin', reelin' with the feelin',   
Movin and a groovin', splishin' and a splashin, yeah!

The audience was going crazy as he showed off his dancing skills during the sax solo. Hermione was wearing a warm smile, Cormac was sulking, and Ron and Oliver were enjoying themselves, clapping along with the fans.

Yes, I was a-splishin' and a splashin'  
I was a-rollin' and a-strollin'  
Yeah, I was a-movin' and a-groovin'...woo!  
We was a-reelin' with the feelin'..ha!  
We was a-rollin' and a-strollin'  
Movin with the groovin' (he spun around on the heels of his loafers and came to a stop, singing the last few words with all he had:)  
Splish splash, yeah! 

When the song stopped, he gave everyone a huge smile and then bowed as the crowd screamed for more. 

Hermione turned to Cormac, her eyebrow raised smugly and held out her hand. "I believe you owe me some money?" 

Cormac growled at her, shoved his hands into his pockets and stalked off, her laugher ringing in his ears.

"So…" Brian said to the judges. 

"Yo dawg!" Randy said, excitedly. "You can sing! Best performance so far, hands down!"

Paulina was on her feet, clapping lightly. "Bravo! That was amazing! The outfit, the singing… it was wonderful!" She blew him a kiss.

"Thank you!" Blaise said, not able to contain his happiness. He was just about jumping for joy.

Simon leaned forward on the table. "Blaise, the theatrics were awful and the whole bath time look was bordering on moronic, but your singing and dancing were… bloody brilliant!"

There was a roar of pleasure from the audience; no one was expecting Simon to give him a compliment. 

"Well, we’ll see if that song was good enough to win you the prize, Blaise!" Brian said and gave him a little shove off the stage. "And now… our last contestant for the night. May I introduce, Draco Malfoy…"

Hermione couldn’t help being curious, and she found herself leaving Ron and Oliver behind and making her way into the front row once more. She was dying to hear him sing and was a little excited and even frightened by the thought of him winning. What would they say to each other for an entire weekend? Would he try to seduce her with his lies again, and would she find him so irresistible that she would loose all common sense and do something she would later regret?

As Draco walked out onto the stage, the audience was dead silent. He was carrying a bar stool and a guitar. He put the stool on the floor, sat down, adjusted the mic to his level and spoke. "Earlier today, I found myself in the confessional talking about something that I’ve kept hidden for a long time. It felt liberating to tell it and I’ve decided to never keep my feelings bottled up ever again."

Hermione’s heart began to race, and she didn’t know why. It was like there was something important hanging in the air and as soon as it descended on her, everything was going to change. Draco was looking directly at her as if the hundred people behind her didn’t exist and they were all alone. 

"I’ve done horrible things in my past, Hermione, and believe it or not, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you and the people you love. I’m sorry for not seeing how wrong I was about… things, and more than anything, I’m sorry for not having the courage to stand up and declare my feelings for you sooner. You have always been in my thoughts and in my dreams. You have been my savior, even though you never knew it."

Hermione was surprised to find she was on the verge of crying. He sounded so sincere. Had she been wrong to judge him so quickly? 

"I know you probably think I’m lying, and I don’t blame you. Somehow, someday, I’ll make you believe me." 

Brian, who had been standing there, ready to announce Draco’s song, was startled by Draco’s sudden silence. What he had just heard was the most beautiful thing in the world and it had almost made him cry- which was not acceptable. "And now, singing Someday by Nickelback… Draco Malfoy." Brian hurried off stage and into the nearest loo, where he tried to get his emotions in check- with some more vodka. It wasn’t working, and as he listened to Draco sing, he bawled his eyes out.

Draco cleared his throat and began to sing, the only music was his guitar and his strong, emotional voice. He had known as soon as he heard this song that it had deep meaning for him and he sang it from the heart.

How the hell did we wind up like this   
Why weren't we able   
To see the signs that we missed   
And try to turn the tables 

 

I wish you'd unclench your fists   
And unpack your suitcase   
Lately there's been too much of this   
Don’t think its too late 

 

Nothin's wrong   
Just as long as   
You know that someday I will 

 

Someday, somehow   
Gonna make it all right but not right now   
I know you're wondering when   
Someday, somehow   
Gonna make it all right but not right now   
I know you're wondering when 

 

Well I hoped that since we're here anyway   
We could end up saying   
Things we've always needed to say   
So we could end up stringing   
Now the story's played out like this   
Just like a paperback novel   
Lets rewrite an ending that fits   
Instead of a Hollywood horror 

 

Nothin's wrong   
Just as long as   
You know that someday I will 

 

Someday, somehow   
gonna make it all right but not right now   
I know you're wondering when   
Someday, somehow 

Gonna make it all right but not right now   
I know you're wondering when 

 

How the hell did we wind up like this   
Why weren't we able   
To see the signs that we missed   
And try to turn the tables   
Now the story's played out like this   
Just like a paperback novel   
Lets rewrite an ending that fits   
Instead of a Hollywood horror 

 

Nothin's wrong   
Just as long as   
You know that someday I will 

 

Someday, somehow   
Gonna make it all right but not right now   
I know you're wondering when 

 

Someday, somehow   
Gonna make it all right but not right now   
I know you're wondering when   
I know you're wondering when   
I know you're wondering when

He ended, his eyes closed, silence engulfing him. There was nothing from the audience, they were stunned.

Slowly, Simon stood up and clapped- something he had never done in his entire career. The applause started of softly and then quickly grew to thunderous proportions. 

Draco opened his eyes, afraid to find that Hermione had fled, but there she was, standing there with tears streaming down her face. 

Brian was back, his eyes red from crying, but otherwise calm and collected. "Judges?" he asked.

Sandy took off his sunglasses and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Dude, that was… was… simply beautiful."

Paulina, who was crying uncontrollably, couldn’t even get words out to describe how she felt.

"That was absolutely amazing," Simon said. "You have an extraordinary talent. Remarkable really…" he was drowned out by the audience who was screaming and whistling again as Draco bowed and Brian brought out Ron, Cormac, Oliver and Blaise.

"We should have done something to fuck it up like we were going to!" Cormac said to Oliver. "Now look! He’s going to win!"

Oliver didn’t need to be told that. He knew he had been totally stupid to fall for Malfoy’s trick. "We’ll get him back, don’t worry," he said through his teeth as he smiled.

"When we return, the judges will announce their decision and we’ll find out who will be taking Hermione on a romantic weekend getaway!"

………………………

"Malfoy’s song was beautiful, wasn’t it?" Ginny asked. She blew her nose, as did Molly and Fleur, who had been sobbing with emotion in each other’s arms. 

"You people are thick aren’t you?" Harry said, getting up. "He’s obviously lying. He wants to win and he’ll say and do whatever he can to make it happen!"

Ginny turned her red-rimmed eyes on him. "I’ve had enough of your negativity! Stop all this Malfoy bashing, it’s making you look like a jealous, bitter fool!" She stood up, poking him in the chest with her finger. "If you can’t handle what’s happening, then I suggest you stop watching the show!"

"Fine!" he said and stomped off like a spoiled child.

"Ginny, darling…" Molly said, putting her arms around her. "Don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh?"

"Mum, I don’t want to talk about it. He needs to face reality and stop living in the past!"

"Commercials are over!" 

…………………………

Hermione was called onto the stage for the announcing of the winner and she knew right after that, she had to make a decision about who to eliminate. She wasn’t too worried, she knew now who she had to let go. She stood as far away from Draco as she could. There were a million thoughts and feelings going through her mind and she needed some time to think about things before confronting him- or even looking at him.

"Welcome back to Can You Feel the Love!" Brian said, flashing his sexy smile at the cameras. "The moment has come to make one of these men the winner." He bent down and took a card from Simon. "On this card, I have the name of the man who will win immunity from tonight’s elimination, money, and that all important alone time with Hermione…" He paused. "The judges have made their decision."

Everyone was holding their breath. Blaise had his fingers crossed behind his back. He knew he had wowed the judges, and had a good chance of being the winner. 

Cormac was positive that his was the best performance, but was sure he wasn’t going to win. Malfoy had used underhanded tactics to secure first place- that lovey-dovey declaration of sorrow and love made him want to puke. 

Draco felt numb. He couldn’t believe that he had really said all of that in front of all those people, and then sang as well as he had. ‘Was it real? Did it really happen, and why won’t she look at me now?’ He glanced over at her, willing her to look up, to smile at him and let him know that he hadn’t done it all for nothing.

Oliver couldn’t care less if he won; he knew Hermione was going to keep him around- who wouldn’t? He was just a little upset that he wasn’t going to win some more money. 

Ron was more than certain that he lost and more stomach churning was the fact that he was sure it was going to be him that was going to be eliminated. Hermione hated him, why keep him around?

Hermione felt sick. Worst case scenario would be for Ron to win, and since he tossed his cookies on stage, she was sure that wasn’t going to happen! What if Cormac won? Now that would ruin everything she had planned. She wouldn’t mind too much to spend a weekend with Oliver; at least she could trust him, but Draco on the other hand…

Brian fumbled with the card and paused, trying to prolong the suspense like Mr. Clump wanted him to. "And the winner is… Draco Malfoy!"

Hermione briefly closed her eyes, the world was spinning and she felt as if she was going to pass out. ‘Draco? Oh, God! This can’t be happening!’

Brian tried to make the noise die down. "We still have one thing to accomplish before the night is over. Who will be eliminated?"

 

Additional Disclaimer: Lyrics in this chapter are not mine, they belong to Justin Timberlake, Bobby Darin and Nickelback.


	11. 11

  
Author's notes: Who will be eliminated?  


* * *

Back in the control room, after they cut to commercial, Donald turned to Stevens. "Right after the elimination, you need to get packed up."

"Packed up, sir?"

"You, my dear protégé, are going to be in charge of the remote location."

Stevens dropped his box of chocolate-covered raisins and they scattered like bugs across the floor of the trailer. "Me? In charge of the remote crew?" he asked, snatching at Donald’s expensive dress shirt with his grubby, sticky hands. "Not that I’m not grateful, but why?"

Donald sat down, took off his headset, looked around to make sure no one was listening and whispered, "I need you to go because I have this Zabini business to take care of. I have to go to the authorities about what he said in the confessional."

"So you really think he has bodies buried in his house?" he asked too loudly.

"Shh, you fool!" Donald warned. "Yes, I do think he’s a murderer, and I’ve got to do something about it. I need you to take care of things at the cottage while I’m investigating."

"Investigating?" Stevens asked, suspiciously. "I thought you just said you were going to the authorities?" He watched his boss's face carefully and saw that the man seemed torn.

"Well, which one is it?"

Donald sighed, suddenly deciding he needed to confide in Stevens. After all, what if something happened to him? It would be good to have at least one person who would know where to find him. "Okay, so the ratings are phenomenal and I don’t want to screw things up by getting the police involved if it turns out it was just all made up. I’m going to go to his house and just look things over myself- just to make sure, and then I’ll turn him over."

"We go live in 30!" someone shouted.

Donald put his headset back on. "Thank God tonight is almost over. This whole day has been one headache after another."

"At least the elimination should go without incident, sir."

"Somehow, I highly doubt we’ll get through it without some sort of catastrophe!" Donald said with a frown. "We’re on in three, two, and one. Cue Oceancrest!"

"And we’re back to Can You… Won’t You… Feel the Love!" Brian said with flourish. He was feeling more than a little tipsy and it was getting harder to focus on his lines. "It’s elimination time for Germione Hranger." He walked over and stood in front of her. Behind him, the men were in a straight line, awaiting their fate.

Ron was looking sick again, and Blaise, who was standing next to him, was keeping a close eye out for any signs of projectile vomit. Oliver was looking bored; he knew he wasn’t going home, so why worry? Cormac was trying to shoot killer laser beams at Draco, who was simply staring at the floor.

"And now Hermione, the fate of these men lies in your hands! The only one safe from tonight’s elimination is the winner of the singing challenge, Draco Malfoy. Of the remaining contestants, three will be safe and one… will not be feeling any love!"

Hermione had been schooled in how the elimination would play out and was ready. She took a huge, silent, lung-filling breath and said, "Draco."

Draco looked up, his blond hair falling into his eyes. He blew it out of the way as he walked across the stage, his face expressionless. Stopping in front of her, he almost jumped out of his skin when she reached out and took his hands in hers.

Hermione was afraid to touch him but knew she had to- it was part of the show and it was in her damn contract. His hands were soft and warm and the moment her skin came in contact with his something happened. It was a jolt, like a low grade electric shock that traveled through her body, making her heart race and her legs weak. She glanced into his eyes and quickly looked away, focusing on a spot on his forehead instead. She could barely find her voice to speak and when she did, it was shaky.

"Draco?" she asked, "Will… will you do me the honor of staying in the house?" She was forcing herself not to look away from that wisp of hair that was lying across his brow. She hated the way he made her feel. All tingly and gushy- like a blushing little girl with a bad case of puppy love. She knew that little declaration during the challenge was all a ploy to win over the judges, but she found herself stupidly wishing everything he had said was true. There was no way she would ever let him see that she felt anything more for him than disgust, he must never know how she really felt.

Draco was willing her with his powerful mind to look at him, but to no avail. Obviously, she didn’t believe a word he said before his song, or else she’d been smiling at him, not biting the inside of her mouth to keep from retching at his touch. The girl was stubborn and childish and needed a good snogging to set her right.

He decided not to worry about her hatred right now; he would have plenty of alone time with her this weekend to change her mind. He leaned forward, catching her off guard, and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Yes, I’ll stay," he whispered in her ear and was pleasantly surprised when he saw she was now ready to look him directly in the eyes. He smirked at her, slid his hands from hers and walked off stage as the audience clapped and whistled. As soon as he was out of sight, he took out his phone and quickly dialed a number. "Yes, it’s me," he whispered. "Is everything going to plan? She’s on her way right now?" he said, a smile spreading across his face. "Excellent! I’ll keep in touch." He ended the call and headed to the side of the stage to watch the drama unfold.

Hermione was stunned. Her fingers came up slowly and felt the place where his lips had been. His kiss still lingered on her skin, warm and wet and… Slowly it registered that there were still four other men waiting to be invited to stay. "Um…" she looked down the line, still aware that her heart was beating rapidly from that chaste peck on the cheek. "Blaise?" she said.

Blaise looked excited as he came forward, but cringed in fear as Hermione reached out to take his hands. There was laughter from the audience as he cried out in absolute terror when she forced his hands away from his chest and held onto to them tightly. "I promise you’re not going to die from touching me," she said with a hint of a smile. "Blaise, will you do me the honor of staying in the house?"

Blaise could think of nothing except the fact that at this very moment, millions of microscopic germs from Hermione’s contaminated hands were invading his clean ones. He could imagine the little germs marching with tiny virus-infested cannons and jabbing at his sterilized flesh with their sharp, dirty, rusty bayonets. Visions of himself dying from lock-jaw flashed through his mind and he snatched back his hands, screaming that he would stay. He’s do anything she wanted as long as she stopped touching him.

There was laughter not only from the audience as Blaise ran from the stage, holding out his hands in front of him, moaning, but even Hermione couldn’t help but giggle at the comedic nature of the whole incident. She started to call the next name, but was interrupted when a commotion broke in the crowd.

"What’s going on?" Ginny asked as the camera quickly panned to the audience where a few security guards were attempting to hold back a screaming woman. She was fighting with everything she had; twisting, scratching, punching and kicking.

"I don’t know," Parvati answered. "Maybe she’s a crazed fan of some sort?"

As the camera zoomed in on her face, Percy gasped and everyone looked over at him.

"What? What is it Perce? Do you know her?" Bill asked. "If you do, tell us!"

Percy gaped at the screen. "Wood is about to get what he deserves," was all he said.

"What do you mean get what he…" Just then, the woman broke free, ran like the wind as the audience parted and headed straight for the stage. She was screaming obscenities at Oliver and the network was doing an awful job of bleeping them out in time.

"Oh, my God!" Lavender said as the woman knocked some more people over and scrambled onto the stage.

"Did you have something to do with this, Percy?" Ginny asked, suspiciously. "You did, didn’t you?"

Percy sat defiantly in his chair. "Well, someone had to tell her that her fiancé was cheating on her!"

Arthur was indignant. "It was not your place to interfere with their relationship, Percy. You might have caused more harm than good."

"What does it matter?" Percy said angrily. "Audrey deserves to be treated better than that. Oliver Wood is a conceited, obsessive, cheating bastard and this isn’t the first time he’s gone after another woman!"

"You have feelings for this Audrey girl, don’t you?" Ginny asked with a smirk. "That’s why you let her know what Oliver was up to. You hope that she’ll dump him and then you can have her all for yourself, right?" She chuckled at his blushing face. "You wanted to break them up and this was the perfect opportunity."

"Looks like it worked!" Dean said. "She’s pissed!"

"I think she might even kill him," Seamus added as they watched Audrey attack Oliver.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Donald screamed as he watched the woman punch a guard in the face, kick another one in the balls and then race towards the stage. "Someone get her! Stop her!" he shouted.

Hermione watched as the crazy woman pushed innocent bystanders to the ground and then hopped up on stage like it was easy. Brian backed away off stage and after taking a nip from his flask, he handed it to Draco, who gladly took a sip. "What do you suppose that lunatic woman wants?" Brian asked him.

"His balls in a sling, is what I’m guessing," Draco said with a laugh, handing the flask back to Brian.

"Audrey!" Oliver yelled, holding out his hands and backing away from the murderous looking woman. "I can explain!"

Ron tripped and fell in his haste to get out of the way. "Ron!" Hermione grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet and they held onto each other in fear. Draco’s laughter died in his throat and was replaced by annoyance as he watched them clinging to one another. Clearly she still harbored feelings for him and that was going to be a problem. Weasley had something he did not- romantic history with her.

Cormac simply stood there, watching the drama, enjoying himself. He knew this would be the end of Oliver. One down, three more to go and then he would claim the money for himself. Screw Granger- she was nothing more than a device to get to the end of the game. He no more wanted her than he wanted to wear clean underwear.

"Explain!" Audrey screeched. "I don’t want to hear your bloody lies any more Oliver!" She hauled off and slapped him across the face, the audience cheering her on. "This is the last time you cheat on me, you f…"

"Get ready to bleep," Donald said to Stevens.

"And you wonder why I cheat on you?" Oliver screamed at her. "You’re a jealous, crazy, bitch!"

The audience gasped all at once and then Audrey jumped on Oliver, knocking him to the ground. "I’ll kill you, you…"

"Bleep…. stupid fu bleeeeeep bleep…… two-timing jack ass mother… bleep!"

"Holy Hades!" Harry said, walking back into the room. "What did I miss?" he asked, taking a seat next to Ginny like their argument had never even happened.

"Wood’s fiancée."

"Look!" the fat man in the blue robes shouted. "She’s pulling out her…"

"Oh, my God!" Donald said, panicking. "Someone grab her! Get her off the stage for fuck’s sake!" Audrey was pulling out her wand and there was no way Donald could let the audience see it, or what she was about to do with it.

Hermione saw her wand, instantly threw Ron off and pounced on her. Audrey’s wand went skittering across the stage, where Draco stopped it with his foot, picked it up and pocketed it. Ron managed to help Oliver up as Hermione pinned Audrey’s arms behind her and yanked her to her feet.

Suddenly, there were guards swarming the stage and Audrey was lead away, still cursing. Ron was trying to hold up a bruised and bleeding Oliver, and finally managed to set him right on his feet. Blaise appeared beside Draco. "What did I miss?" he asked as the guards walked past, dragging Audrey.

Draco slipped her wand back into her pocket as she went by even though he really wanted to keep it. Who knew when a wand would come in handy? Then again, it was against the rules and he didn’t want to risk getting kicked off the show and thrown in Azkaban.

"What did you miss?" Draco asked incredulously. "Where the bloody hell have you been all this time?"

"Washing my hands."

Donald checked his watch. "Damn it! We only have five minutes of air time left. Get those remaining contestants back in line, tell Hermione to go on with the elimination and someone tell Oceancrest to get his drunk ass back out onto the stage!"

The floor manager called Hermione over and told her that Mr. Clump wanted the show to go on, so she informed the men to get back in line and as soon Brian staggered out onto the stage, she called Ron’s name. Ron, still reeling from the excitement he had just been a part of, quickly accepted, hugged her and then ran off stage, the audience’s laughter following him.

Only Oliver and Cormac remained. Hermione hated McLaggen with a passion, but seeing as Oliver was a liar and a cheat, she had no option but to keep him. With her top lip curled in disgust, she called, "Cormac."

With a smug grin, he walked slowly towards her. "I knew you’d keep me," he said less than half and inch from her face. His hands felt slimy and warm in hers and it made her queasy.

Hermione pulled back, trying not to faint from his breath, which smelled like moldy peaches. "Um… Cormac?" she asked, holding her breath and trying to talk at the same time. "Will you do me the honor of staying in the house?" she asked quickly.

"Sure thing, doll!" he said and tried to kiss her on the lips. Hermione was having none of it and turned her head.

"DE-nied!" Draco said and he and Blaise cracked up.

Cormac simply shrugged it off, thinking perhaps she was bashful and didn’t want to kiss in front of a live audience. That had to be it, because who wouldn’t want to snog him?

Hermione looked over at Oliver. His eye was already swelling up, his bottom lip was puffy, cracked and bleeding, and his shirt was torn. He looked like shit. Never would she have expected him to be a womanizing asshole. He had always seemed so nice; a smart guy and a loyal friend. He had fooled her and she didn’t like that one bit!

"Oliver?" she said and he came towards her. She didn’t take his hands but instead spoke harshly to him. "You are the worst kind of man there is- a liar, a cheat, untrustworthy, and selfish." He said nothing but kept his head down as if he was being chastised by his mother for forgetting to feed the cat or something. "You are eliminated from the house. I feel no love for you."

"Cue Oceancrest!" Donald said into the headset. "Camera one zoom in on him." He watched Oliver vacate the stage. "Bring out the survivors of the elimination. Camera two pan them, camera three head shot of Hermione!"

"Join us Tuesday when we’ll see all the good stuff that happened on the romantic getaway and then it’s confession time! See you next time on Can You Feel the Love!"

"Camera two pull back! Fade to black… and cut! That’s a wrap!" Donald ripped off his headset and collapsed in the chair. He had sweat stains in the pits of his shirt and his tie was all askew. "I don’t get paid enough for this."

"I’m sure you get paid way more than I do, sir. I can’t even afford to move out of my parent’s house, and I’m 30 years old!"

"Well, stop wasting your money on cakes, candy, and jerky and maybe you’d have enough to rent a flat!"

"You sound like my father…"

The other crew members in the control room were putting their equipment away and leaving for the day. Donald’s phone suddenly rang and he picked it up. "Hello?" he said, annoyed. "Oh, yes. The show was a disaster and I apolo… what? The ratings were sky high?" He looked over at Stevens and they beamed at each other. "Well, my second in command, Stevens, is leaving right now for the remote location... Yes, I’m sure I trust him…"

Stevens was beside himself with joy. Here was his chance to prove that he knew what he was doing. Donald was still talking on the phone when there was a knock on the trailer door. Stevens said, "Enter!" A young man walked in; he was wearing a baseball hat, faded, torn jeans and an old flannel shirt.

"Hi there. I’m Sam. I was told I’d be accompanying you to the remote site as your second in command." He held out his hand.

"Welcome aboard!" Stevens said, shaking his hand. "We’ve got a lot to do, and very little time to do it."

Donald hung up the phone and looked over at Sam, puzzled. "Aren’t you that photographer that went with us to Hermione’s house? What are you doing here?"

Sam seemed nervous. "I got a phone call from the boss telling me to see you and Mr. Stevens. They said I was to accompany the remote crew. He said to tell you that he specifically wanted me to go."

"Why?" Donald asked. Something was not right here. This man was a mere photographer and had no television experience to his knowledge. Why would the boss want to make sure he went with them to the remote site? His brain hurt. There was something very weird going on with this show and after he checked out the Zabini situation, he was going to get to the bottom of it all.

"Why?" Sam said, shrugging his shoulders. "I don’t know, I just do what I’m told."

Donald studied him, decided the kid had no more idea what was going on than he did and then dismissed it. "Fine. Whatever. Just get the equipment packed, the crew flight takes off at midnight."

He called to another man named Jenner and told him he was now in charge of the audio and video for the cameras in the house. "I’m going home, sleeping for ten hours. Keep me posted, Stevens. I want to know everything that’s going on, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir!"

Draco was told to pack and be ready to go at six a.m. He went to his room, slipped out of his clothes, took a nice long shower and then instead of sleeping, he went over the night frame by frame in his mind before thinking about the coming weekend. He couldn’t wait to be alone with her; the hot, steamy tropical air, the crashing waves, sitting side by side in the sand as they watched the sun set. It was going to be paradise. Surely in that atmosphere, she couldn’t deny him any longer.

Hermione quickly packed her things, throwing whatever she came across into her suitcases, not even bothering to fold anything. Her mind kept wandering back to that kiss and to what Draco had said before he sang that beautiful song. She didn’t want to look like a fool, and falling for a man who was probably pretending to like her was the most foolish thing she could possibly do. She decided that this weekend she was going to find out the truth, one way or another- no matter what.


	12. 12

  
Author's notes: Draco and Hermione are off to spend the weekend together.  


* * *

Hermione woke up suddenly and looked at the glowing alarm clock next to her bed. It was 4:30. She had been tossing and turning all night and decided that enough was enough. She threw back the covers and got out of bed, stretching and yawning on the way to the shower. 

She flicked on the light to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Of course it was her old self looking back at her; the Polyjuice Potion had worn off- she’d have to take some more soon. "God, I look like death warmed over," she said, pulling at the purple bags under her eyes with her fingertips. Her hair was a frizzy halo around her head and her breath was far from fresh.

"What would Malfoy say if he saw me now?" she said to her reflection. She thought perhaps he’d run screaming for the hills never to return. She suddenly had a thought. ‘I’ll make myself look as hideous as possible and act totally annoying and see if he still has feelings for me then!’ She chuckled deviously, and then went to work uglifying herself.

***

Draco had been up since three o’clock. He’d lifted weights, gone for a swim in the pool, shot some hoops, drank cup after cup of coffee and now he was lying in the grass as the sun came up, thinking- something he was trying to avoid. There were so many things he needed to tell Hermione, so many things he was going to have to explain and hope she forgave him for. Lately, his whole life had revolved around secrets and now there were more than ever; it was getting a bit old. He longed for the moment he could tell her everything; it would feel so nice to not have to hide anymore. He just hoped she’d be able to forgive him for deceiving her. 

The alarm on his expensive watch beeped and he hopped to his feet. In half an hour, the car would arrive and then he’d be able to see her. He could barely wait.

***  
There was a knock at the door. Hermione tucked her supply of Polyjuice into her suitcase, closed it up and carried it with her across the flat. She set it down next to her other bag, took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves, and opened the door. 

Draco was standing there, looking cool and gorgeous in khaki pants and a light-green shirt which was unbuttoned, showing his white t-shirt that he wore underneath. His hair was swept back from his forehead and he was wearing very dark sunglasses. He moved these to the top of his head as he greeted her. 

"My, Granger, don’t you look…" He surveyed her sloppy attire with amusement. She was wearing pink, cotton pajama pants with little bunnies on them, a white, strappy tank top with a huge stain of what looked like tea down the front of it, and flip flops. Her hair was fuzzy and looked like a rats nest and even though she had put it up, it still was all over the place. She had left-over makeup from the previous night smeared all over her face, making her look like a raccoon who had eaten a jar of raspberry jam. "Casual…" he managed to get out.

The camera man slid past Draco and into the room, tilting his camera up and down on Hermione, zooming in on various parts of her outfit, finally coming to rest on her face. He had been on the job since day one, and had never seen her look so… unmade. Something was up because she had always made sure she looked presentable. He didn’t know much about women, but he recognized a ploy for attention when he saw one.

Hermione frowned at him, picked a wedgie out of her ass and then pushed past him to the door. She turned around and rolled her eyes. "Well. Aren’t you going to get my bags?" she said to him. When he made no move to do it, she stomped her foot like a spoiled child. "Oh, I forgot!" she said sarcastically. "Malfoy’s don’t do menial labor, do they? They have house-e servants to do everything for them. I bet there’s even one who’s only job in life is to wipe the shit from your precious alabaster ass, right?"

"Alabaster ass?" Draco said with a smirk. "It is hard, smooth, and white, but I’ve never likened it to alabaster before…"

Hermione glared at him; clearly she wasn’t being annoying enough. He hadn’t even batted and eye at her trifling appearance, and her bad attitude was being ignored. "Are you going to get my bags or not?"

"That would have to be a resounding… no."

Hermione stomped her foot again, reached down and snatched up her two suitcases. Without another word, she left the flat and headed to the limo. Draco shrugged at the camera and laughed to himself as he followed after her.

***

Inside the limo, Hermione was sitting opposite Draco, who was leaning back against the seat, his legs spread wide, grinning at her. He had taken the sunglasses off his head and was sucking on the end of one of the arms. She was trying to look out the tinted windows and ignore him, but she found in was impossible; the way his luscious mouth was wrapped around those sunglasses was very distracting. God, he just looked so damn sexy…

He was getting to her and that was not supposed to happen. ‘Do something, you twit!’ she told herself. ‘Make him hate you!’ She pulled a pack of bubble gum out of her bra, unwrapped a piece, shoved it into her mouth, and chomped and snapped it loudly. He was still looking at her as she pulled the gum halfway out of her mouth and twirled it around her finger. "Would you mind telling me why the hell you’re smiling at me like that?" she asked, putting it back in and chewing even louder.

"I know what you’re trying to do."

"I have no bloody idea what you’re talking about," she said, blowing a huge bubble the size of her head. She hoped he was getting annoyed with her…

Draco leaned forward quickly and poked his finger in the bubble, popping it all over her face. "You’re trying to make yourself look as unattractive as possible so that I’ll be repulsed and admit that I really hate you, and then you can pat yourself on the back because you were right." He watched her struggle to get the sticky goo off her face. "It’s not working you know. You may be dressed like an alcoholic vagabond and chew gum like trailer trash, but I still find you utterly, amazingly… sexy." 

Hermione stopped picking gum from her eyebrows and looked at him. She couldn’t tell if he was serious or not and even though she wanted to believe he was, there was still that little piece of her that didn’t trust him whatsoever. "You’re a liar, Draco Malfoy," she said, curling her feet up under her and crossing her arms. "I look like a hobo and there is no way- even if you did… like me in that way… that you’d ever find me sexy right now."

"Then why do I have a raging hard-on?" he asked. "It’s certainly not because I find Lenny the camera man over here delightfully fuckable." He sat back, proud of himself that he had shocked her with his vulgar talk. "I know you don’t believe a damn word I say, Granger, and it’s getting on my fucking nerves. I poured out my heart to you, told you how much I want to be with you, apologized for being a prick all those years, and just now I said I found you sexy. What more do you want, huh?" He was so tempted to just open the car door and throw himself on the road and be done with it. This woman was so infuriating! "Look at yourself, Granger! Only a man in love would find you attractive in the state you’re in…"

She was too shocked. ‘Did he just say what I think he said?’

Lenny the camera man was enjoying himself, zooming in and out, grinning and chuckling. These two had sexual tension in abundance and he was glad he was going to be around when it finally built up to the point of a volcanic eruption. Shit, maybe they’d do it right here in the car!

"Tell me, what I can do to prove to you that I’m not making this all up?" Draco asked, throwing his hands up in the air.

Hermione finally came to her senses. "Did… you just say love?"

Draco froze, realizing what he’d said and wishing he could take it back at once. "What?" he said, trying to play if off. "You must have heard me wrong because I never said that…"

"Oh, yes you did!" Lenny said. "Would you like me to rewind and show you?" he stopped the camera and went to press the buttons. 

"No! What I would like for you to do is mind your own damn business!" Draco said, smacking the man up-side his head. 

Hermione sank back in her seat and turned her head towards the window again, thinking. The sound of Draco and Lenny arguing was a low, barely audible noise in the background. She knew he had said love, she wasn’t crazy. How was it possible to love someone you hated for so long, not to mention someone you’d only seen a handful of times in the last five years? Was he mistaking lust for love, or was he some sort of obsessive stalker? Who knows, maybe back in school he had been watching from in between shelves of dusty books in the library, wanking as she pondered over her Potions essay.

"There’s the plane," Lenny said, snatching his camera back from Draco, who was threatening to bust it over his ass, and turned it back on. The car rolled to a smooth stop and the driver hopped out and opened the door, letting them out.

***

Hermione was blown away by the interior of the private jet. She had never been in anything other than a commercial plane. The seats were always cramped and the aisles small- not on here though! It was spacious and cozy; decorated in dark colors of beige, dark-green, and maroon. There were leather reclining chairs that looked very comfy; she sat down in one of them and Draco chose the one directly facing her.

The pilot announced they were getting ready to taxi and they buckled up for safety. Soon they felt the plane move into position. It raced down the runway and slowly ascended into the sky. Lenny had set up camp in the row behind them, and after the plane was steady, he put the camera on a tripod, switched it to record, and took a nap.

"Have you ever flown in a plane before, Malfoy?" Draco was gripping the arms of his chair so hard his knuckles were white; he was clearly afraid.

The flight attendant walked in between them, lifted a compartment, and pulled out a table. She quickly set it with plates of fresh fruit and juice, and a vase of pretty flowers. "Help yourselves and have a great flight, Mr. Malfoy," she said with a sweet smile and walked back to sit in the cockpit.

Draco picked up the conversation where they had left off, telling her that he’d been on an airplane a few times before.

"Really?" she asked, slightly shocked. He had always professed his dislike of anything Muggle, and had a hard time believing he would set foot in an airplane unless he was being threatened with loss of life or limb. "When was that?" she asked, picking up a piece of melon.

"A few weeks ago. I had important business…"

"Important business? What kind of business?" She couldn’t even imagine. "What is it exactly that you do? I thought you just sat around in your Manor House, living off the family fortune. I never knew you had a real job."

"Regardless of what you and everyone else thinks, I am not a freeloader, Granger. Sure, I came into my trust fund when I turned twenty, and that was enough money to keep me comfortable for an entire lifetime and then some, but I’ve always wanted to prove myself, you know? Prove to my father that I wasn’t just a good-looking man with impeccable taste, but that I also had brains, and so I went out and started my own company." He poured himself a glass of orange juice and sipped it. "It’s just starting to get off the ground, but I’ve managed to increase profits and the company is gaining more recognition daily."

"What exactly does this company of yours do?" she asked, honestly interested.

"Well… you see… I run… that is…" He shifted in his seat. "We…"

She noticed he was suddenly less sure of himself; fidgety and nervous, like he was hiding something.

"It’s hard to explain… I don’t know if you’d be that interested, really. It’s quite boring."

The flight attendant came around, asking if anyone needed anything. Hermione noticed that she and Draco gave each other a brief smile and he addressed her by her name- which seemed odd because the woman had never been introduced to them. "So, who’s taking care of your business while you’re doing the show?" 

"I have someone who’s keeping me informed about everything on a daily basis."

"Oh, really? Who?" she asked, raising her eyebrow quizzically, "And is that why you have a mobile phone?" she asked, watching his every move. His hands were shaking as he picked up his juice again. "I thought we weren’t allowed outside communication?"

He drained his glass, placed it on the table and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "We’re not," he said. "Look, Hermione, I can’t talk about this. I’ll explain everything later- I promise, but right now I have to go to the loo. I’ll be right back- don’t miss me too much!"

She watched him get up, and found it very interesting that he automatically knew where the restroom was on the plane. ‘Something is definitely fishy,’ she thought to herself. ‘The flight attendant, the company he won’t discuss, the fact that he’s been on a Muggle airplane and that he owns a damn cell phone… yes, something is up with that man and I’m going to find out exactly what it is.’

***

Draco shut and locked the door to the restroom. He leaned on it for a second, trying to calm down. She was asking too many questions- questions he just couldn’t answer right now. It was imperative that it all go to plan, and how was that supposed to happen when she was slinking around poking her cute, little nose in things she wasn’t supposed to? He had totally forgotten how easily she could piece two and two together, and had completely underestimated her intelligence. He’d have to do something to keep her mind occupied on other things…

Having made up his mind on his next move, he took a piss, splashed water on his face and went back out into the cabin where he found Hermione digging through her bags. "Looking for something?" he asked. 

She jumped, frightened. "You scared the hell out of me!" she said, clutching her throat. "Just some clean clothes." Taking a small bag and a new outfit from her suitcase, she said, "I think I’ll go clean up, don’t you miss me too much while I’m gone."

***

Hermione almost ran to the loo, where the first thing she did was open the Polyjuice and take a swig. Even though it was a double strength potion, and lasted a bit longer than normal Polyjuice, she wasn’t taking any chances. God, what if she morphed back into her old self right there in front of him? That would be disastrous!

She stripped off her gross clothes, washed her face, pits, and privates furiously with a soapy washcloth and then slipped on some fresh, clean clothes. After that, she brushed her teeth and put on a little bit of makeup. She tried to tell herself she wasn’t trying to look good for Malfoy- she was just tired of looking like a slob. ‘Then why are you putting perfume on?’ she accused herself as she sprayed her favorite scent on her neck and wrists. She rolled her eyes at herself in the mirror and tossed the bottle back into her bag. "I don’t like him. He’s ugly and a jerk and he makes my skin crawl," she chanted out loud, and even her reflection laughed at her futile attempt at brainwashing herself. "Agh!" she said, giving up.

By the time she got back to the cabin, Draco was asleep. He had his seat all the way back and someone… probably the too-friendly flight attendant, had covered him with a blanket. Lenny was still snoozing away, a line of drool slowly making its way down his jaw and into the collar of his shirt. Hermione sat down and took the opportunity to just stare at Draco. 

It was funny that she didn’t remember ever once thinking him attractive back at school. Was she so blinded by hate for him that her mind had refused to register the fact that he was… sexy? It was hard to believe that for seven years she had fought with this man, been disgusted by his superior, smug attitude and had at times wished him to die a most painful death. How was it that now, a few short years later, she was finding herself falling in love with him? Was love the right word? Maybe that was jumping the gun a bit… she was definitely feeling something other than the familiar loathing for him, though. 

He shifted slightly, his head falling to the side. Hermione thought she heard him moan something, but it was so soft she couldn’t be sure. ‘There it is again!’ she thought as his lips moved and he whispered a few words. ‘Maybe he’s talking in his sleep.’ The thought of hearing his inner most secrets was too tempting not to take advantage of. Getting up slowly- so she wouldn’t wake Lenny, she quietly took a step and leaned in close to Draco’s face. He said something, something that sounded like her name, but she wasn’t quite sure… "What?" she said to herself, getting closer and turning her head slightly so she could hear him better. This time, he sighed softly and she distinctly heard him say ‘I want.’ He mumbled something else and she was so damn curious about what it was that he was wanting, that she put her hands on either side of his chair and moved even closer. 

 

She was nose to nose with him, and concentrating so hard on what he was whispering, that it startled the crap out of her when his eyes popped open and he grabbed her. "What are you do…" was all she managed to say before his lips were on hers and he was kissing her.


	13. 13

  
Author's notes: Draco and Hermione go on a plane trip and Donald makes a horrible discovery.  


* * *

She wasn't used to being manhandled this way. It was quite shocking- and a little bit of a turn on. She found herself actually leaning into his kiss, her tongue swirling with his, her hands on his shoulders, pressing them into the leather seat. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine it would feel this nice- and she had imagined it more than once these past few days! His hands grasped her hips and he pulled her into his lap, deepening the kiss.

"Damn! Now this is hot!" came Lenny’s excited voice from behind the camera. "Just wait until they see this on the air!"

Hermione’s eyes flew open; she immediately jumped up and smacked Draco across the face. "H…how dare you attack me!" she accused, rubbing viciously at her mouth. "You disgust me and…"

Draco, rubbing his cheek and smirking, said, "Now my dear, we both know you wanted it, you’ve been asking for it since day one. I was simply giving you what you desired."

"What I de… I never once… you forced me into that kiss and you know it!" she said, stomping her foot.

"I’ll admit I made the first move, but you can’t deny you were totally into it. You were kissing me back- and liking it." He sat back in his chair, his hands behind his head, a look of pure amusement on his handsome face.

"I was not!" Her face was on fire and she was sure she was going to die of embarrassment.

"Yes, you were. A second longer and you would have ripped my clothes from my body and rode me like a porn star."

"It’s you that’s turned on, Malfoy! You’re the one with the prominent stiffie in his pants!" She pointed to his tent and grinned.

Draco didn’t even bother to deny it. "So? I have no problem admitting that you sitting in my lap sucking on my tongue made me horny as hell. You’re the one who refuses to admit it."

"That’s because I have nothing to admit. You tricked me. You attacked me and you forced me to kiss you. I didn’t enjoy it one bit and in fact it made me throw up a bit in my mouth!"

"Please!" Draco said, rolling his eyes. "Even right now I can see it in your face. You wanted it. You loved it and you want more of it!"

"You are so delusional." Hermione said through clenched teeth. Her fists were balled at her sides and she wanted nothing more than to knock his lights out so he’d shut the hell up. "I hate you, and for the last time I didn’t enjoy kissing you!"

Lenny looked up. "I can settle this right here, right now. Just let me back up the video and play it back…"

"Great idea, Leonard!" Draco said, slapping his hands together and getting up, "nothing like hard evidence to put this little… misunderstanding to rest."

Hermione turned, and with the quickness of an agile cat, knocked Lenny over and took possession of the camera. "Don’t come any closer!" she warned Draco, "or I’ll…" She held the camera over her head; it was quite heavy and it almost slipped from her hands.

"You’ll what?" he asked, taking a step towards her. He was thoroughly enjoying this little game, it was too bad he had to end it before she broke something. He took another step, looking stern. "Put it down, Granger, that’s an expensive piece of equipment and I don’t want… I mean whoever it is that runs this show wouldn’t like you smashing it." 

Hermione’s eyes darted around the cabin as she backed up. Something clicked in her mind and she blurted, "Why should you care if I throw the camera and break it, huh? It doesn’t belong to you… or does it?" Did he own the show? Was he the person behind it all? The cell phone, knowing where the loo on the plane was and now almost busting a nut over an expensive television camera- it was all very suspicious. "Tell me the truth, Draco. Are you the station owner? You’re running this show, aren’t you, and all this belongs to you. That’s why you’re so worried about me breaking this, right?"

Draco flinched. ‘Smart little witch!’ he thought with a laugh. It was definitely too early to let her know the truth, so he needed to do some damage control- fast! "What the fuck are you talking about?" he said with a laugh, "I was asked to be on this show just like everyone else. I don’t own any television station, I’m not the man behind the curtain and that camera isn’t mine! Just put it down before you hurt yourself; your skinny, frail arms are shaking under the strain and I fear it’s going to fall on your head."

Hermione saw him take another step towards her. This time when she backed up, she tripped over Lenny who was still on the floor, and went sprawling. Several things happened in quick succession: the camera flew out of her hands, her ass hit the ground with a loud thump, Draco lunged and managed to catch the camera, but tripped over Hermione’s foot and landed right on top of them, knocking the wind out of her and Lenny, and the plane started to shake violently.

……….

Donald Apparated in front of the ramshackle Zabini mansion. The sun was setting and the noise of crickets chirping was almost deafening in his ears. He walked up the crumbling drive, past the overgrown gardens full of weeds, side-stepped a maggoty corpse of a bird, and stepped up to the door. Looking around to make sure he wasn’t being followed, he pulled out his wand and opened the door.

"Agh!" he said, walking straight into a huge spider web as he crossed the threshold. He spun around, sputtering and swearing under his breath, trying to get the sticky strands off. It was darker than a coal miner’s ass and he lit his wand, wanting to avoid shattering his shins on ancient mahogany furniture as he wound his way through the rooms. He had no idea where the basement was, but seeing as most of the ones he had been in were accessed through the kitchen, he headed that way. 

Bugs and critters scurried from his wand-light like tiny vampires running from the rising sun. "Disgusting!" he said, passing by counters full of moldy, putrefying food that was covered in swarms of flies and roaches. Holding back his vomit, he proceeded toward the back corner where a door was visible in the gloom. Reaching out a shaking hand, he grasped the knob and turned it. He expected a loud creak and was not let down. "Here goes nothing," he said, his heart thudding in his chest.

His shoes left imprints in the dust as he slowly descended the stairs into the black abyss below, his wand bobbing, making the light dance on the stone walls. The air was thick, almost suffocating but at the same time wet and chilly like he was walking through a fog bank. It smelled like a mixture of wet, rotting Autumn leaves and stale farts, and his nose crinkled with distaste as stepped off the bottom step onto the dirt floor. 

Somewhere in the distance was the plinking sound of water dripping onto metal, and this was where he headed. Taking small, shuffling steps, he advanced slowly through the basement, dodging spiders with bodies as fat as his hand that hung from webs full of desiccated bug corpses.

Holding his wand out as far as his arm could reach so that he could see what was in front of him, he finally made it to the source of the dripping and was pleasantly surprised to see that it was water leaking from an overhead pipe onto a shovel that was lying on the ground. Shovel = digging = grave. ‘This is a good place to start’ he thought, picking up the shovel and setting it up against the crumbling wall. He waved his wand over the ground and said, "Ostendo Sum Sepulchrum!"

Dirt flew up as the ‘grave’ quickly un-dug itself. It was quite deep; no wonder Zabibi had dropped the shovel and left it, he was probably exhausted! Why hadn’t he just used magic? Did digging it by hand have some twisted significance in his disturbed mind? Did it make it more 'personal’? 

The spray of dirt suddenly ceased and Donald rushed over, aiming his wand-light inside. "Hold shit!" he said in disbelief. 

………….

"Get off me!" Hermione said, gasping for air and pushing at Draco with all her might. Although she liked the feeling of his body pressed against hers, the one underneath wasn’t so comfortable. "The plane is going to crash and I don’t want to die sandwiched in between two men!"

"What better way to go?" Lenny said from under her with a sly grin.

"Granger, if I were you, I’d stop squirming around on top of poor Lenny like that or he’s going to explode in his pants." 

Hermione quickly stopped moving, noticing for the first time the feeling of something hard pressing against her back. "Ew! I swear to God, Lenny, if you start humping me, I’m going to…"

"Enjoy it?" Draco asked, smirking in her face.

The three of them simultaneously whipped their heads toward the sound of a woman clearing her throat. "I… hope I’m not interrupting anything?"

Draco got swiftly to his feet. "Um… the plane was shaking and we kind of… fell over."

The flight attendant stood there, her eyebrow arched in amusement. "If you say so, Mr. Malfoy." She walked around, picking up plates of food that had fallen. "As you can see, the plane has stabilized and the pilot has informed me that we will be landing in little over an hour." She placed everything on a tray and turned to them on her way out. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

No one answered, so she gave them a friendly smile and left the cabin. Lenny picked up the tripod and set it back upright. After taking the camera back from Draco, he gave it a quick look-over. "Seems to be okay. Looks like it managed to record everything. Won’t the boss be happy about that!" He put it on the tripod and then excused himself to go to the loo.

"We can’t let the whole world see us kissing like that!" Hermione said, "hurry, erase it, delete it, do something!"

Draco sat back down, reclined in his seat, and did nothing of the sort. "Take it easy, Granger, you’re so damn uptight and frustrated all the time. Why don’t you come here and let me relieve some of that tension?" he asked with a wink.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You repulse me, Malfoy."

"Keep telling yourself that."

"You are so infuriating!" She snatched his blanket up from the floor and threw herself into her chair. "I’m going to sleep now so that I don’t have to look at you."

"Oh, you’ll be seeing me… in your dreams," he said with a chuckle.

Hermione frowned at him, laid her seat back, curled up with the warm blanket, and closed her eyes. She slept the rest of the way there.

……….

The door to the trailer banged open and Jenner jumped to his feet as Donald rushed in.

"Shut down the audio and video! Turn off all monitors and vacate the control room now!" he shouted, pressing buttons and pushing people out the door.

"But, Sir…" Jenner protested.

"Just do what I said or you’re fired!" He glared at the man until he looked away and headed for the audio board to shut it down. 

Donald paused at the last monitor which was showing Ron, Cormac, and Blaise sitting around the pool. He frowned at it, switched it off, and headed out the door with everyone else.

Looking around at the confused crew, he said, "Now I want everyone to vacate the property for an hour." There was loud murmuring and even some angry shouting at this command.

"What’s going on?"

"Are we getting paid for this hour?"

"Why can’t we just stay here?"

"This is a bunch of shit!"

Donald totally lost it and blew up at them. "If you don’t get the hell off the property right now, I’m going to fire all of you or even have your stupid asses arrested and you’ll never work in this industry again! You have five minutes!" He went back into the trailer and slammed the door.

Jenner took charge, and after soothing some of the more pissed off people, he managed to herd them all away making excuses for his boss’s bad temper.

In the control room, Donald pulled out his phone and called Stevens…

……

"Move the camera in the bedroom over a bit… yes, yes right there. That’s it!" Stevens checked the other monitors. "Something is up with the one in the kitchen area; some kind of interference… damn!" His cell phone rang to the tune of ‘Play that Funky Music White Boy’. "Hello!"

"Stevens?"

"Mr. Clump!" he said happily. "How’s it going on your end? Everything is fine h…"

"Listen Stevens," he said, interrupting his happiness. "The shit is about to hit the fan here. Have they arrived yet?"

"No, Sir, the car should just be arriving any minute now," Stevens said while checking the fade bar on the switcher. "Sir, what shit is about to hit the fan? Did you find something at Zabini’s house?"

"Oh, I found something all right. Try a few somethings." He couldn’t get the sight out of his mind. Those poor decaying corpses! Some with knives stuck in their skulls and rope wrapped so tightly around their throats that it was barely visible. Some with missing fingers and even feet and one corpse was flat, as if it had been crushed by a giant boulder and had every bone broken in its body. There was clear evidence that they had been brutally tortured before he killed them. The man was sick and needed to be put away for a long, long time.

"Sir? Are you still there?"

"Yes, I’m here. Stevens, I just wanted to let you know that officers from The Department of Magical Law Enforcement are on there way to arrest Zabini for murder, so you might want to tell Hermione and Draco that he won’t be around when they get back.

"What exactly do I tell them, Sir?"

"Tell them the truth; it’s going to be all over the Prophet anyway."

"Here they are now, Mr. Clump, don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got it all under control from this end."

"I’m sure you do, Stevens. I’ll see you in a few days."

"Goodbye, Sir."

Donald hung up and headed for the house.

…….

The three men were sitting by the pool sipping drinks and relaxing. Cormac was bragging about some girl he screwed after only knowing her for ten minutes when out of thin air, five Wizards appeared and aimed their wands at Blaise.

"What the…" was all he got out before he was sent flying by their Stunning Spells.

"Bloody hell!" Ron said, jumping from his chair so fast that he knocked it over. "Leave him alone!" He rushed towards the man who was lifting Blaise and ran full force into him, sending them both into the pool.

"I surrender! Please don’t kill me!" Cormac shouted. He backed up against the wall of the house, cringing in terror. They were being attacked and the last thing he wanted to do was die. "I’ll tell you everything you want to know, just please don’t hurt me."

Donald came sprinting around the house. "Stop!" he yelled, stepping in between a pissed off Magical Law Enforcement Officer and Ron, who was climbing out of the water. "I can explain everything, just everyone stop and calm the hell down!"

……….

"What a darling cottage!" Hermione said as they pulled up out front. It was set back from the private beach, surrounded by beautiful flowers and palm trees and in her opinion, it was the perfect place for some rest and relaxation- too bad Draco had to be there to ruin it all. The driver opened the car door; she stepped out and sniffed the salty ocean air. "I can’t wait to lie in the sun…"

"I can’t wait to see you lying in the sun. Will you be naked?" Draco teased.

Hermione sighed in annoyance. "No, I won’t be naked, will you?"

"Of course, tan lines are so unattractive."

"Then I hope you’re dick gets sunburned and blisters up," she said and headed towards the open door of the cottage, a smile on her face.

"If it does, will you rub some aloe on it for me?" he asked, keeping pace with her.

"I’d rather lick McLaggen’s sweaty armpit than rub any part of your body, Malfoy." She stepped inside and took a quick look around, Draco close at her heels. "Kind of small, don’t you think?" she asked him, peering into the tiny bathroom. The thought of spending so much time with Draco in a cramped cottage with no escape was making the butterflies in her tummy flutter uncontrollably. She could barely keep herself from living that kiss over and over in her mind, wondering what it would feel like to do more than kiss him.

"Hey look, only one bedroom- with a king-sized bed!" he said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Which side do you prefer, or do you plan on sleeping on top of me?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she walked past him into the bedroom. It was the largest room in the cottage, but it still extremely small, containing only the bed, a chair, and a dresser. She sprawled out on the bed and looked over at him. "Have fun sleeping on the floor, Malfoy."

There was no way he was sleeping anywhere but on that bed! "The bed is mine, Granger," he said, slowly walking towards her. "So get out of it."

"I’m not moving, Malfoy, you’ll have to make me." she said, rolling over on her stomach, her head resting on palms, her legs bent and her feet swinging slowly. "And I don't think you're man enough."

There was a playfulness to her voice that confused him. One minute she was snapping at him like a bitch and the next she was almost flirting with him. What was she playing at? "Not man enough, huh?" he said, jumping on the bed.


	14. 14

  
Author's notes: Draco and Hermione go for a walk and one of them end up injured.  


* * *

A/N: Thank to my wonderful beta, Lady Lynn, and just so you know, the last scene in this chapter was not inspired by the TV show Friends, but by an episode of Survivor.

There was a resounding crrrrrrrrraaaaaaaack and both Draco and Hermione screamed as the bed frame snapped and the box spring and mattress hit the floor with a thud.

“Shit! Now we both have to sleep on the floor!” Draco said with a grin.

“You broke the bed on purpose, didn’t you?”

“I had to do something, that shameless flirting you were attempting was embarrassing. If you ask me, you need better instruction.”

“Flirting?” she shouted, slapping him in the arm. “I was not flirting. I was trying to get you on the bed so that I could…”

“Stick your hand in my pants and show me how much you love me?” He waited for the blows to rain down and wasn’t disappointed. “Why are you abusing me, Granger? I do like a little violence during sex, but this is getting a little tiresome!” he said, rolling away across the mattress as she kicked him and slapped him.

“What the hell is wrong with you, huh?” she asked, giving up the assault and getting off the bed. “Back at the house you actually acted like a mature adult and now all of the sudden you’ve turned into a perverted jackass!”

“I got tired of pretending to be something I wasn’t. I’m sure you know all about that, don’t you?” he asked with a sly smirk.

Hermione’s heart plummeted. What did he mean by that? Did he know she hadn’t really gotten that plastic surgery and was just pretending with Polyjuice? She panicked, wondering when she last took some, and if she had changed back and was now standing right in front of him looking like her old self. “I…” was all she got out before turning and running, her hand over her face.

Sam was entering the cottage, carrying the luggage when he was attacked by Hermione, who wrenched her belongings from him and took off for the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

“What the hell is her problem?” he asked as Draco sauntered into the room. “She almost knocked me over she was in such a hurry!” He tossed the remaining bags on the floor at Draco’s feet.

Draco glanced up at the camera in the corner and quickly looked away. “Maybe she had to take a massive shit or something.”

Sam snorted laughter. “Seriously, I don’t know what you see in her. I mean she is hot now and everything but she was an ugly, snooty little wench back in…”

“I’m Draco by the way, and you are?” he asked, interrupting a confused Sam. “We’ve never met,” he said slowly. “This is the first time I’m seeing you and I would like to know your name…” He held out his hand and looked the stupid man directly in the eyes. He saw the moment it clicked; he no longer resembled a daft cow.

“Ooohhhh!” Sam said, taking Draco’s hand and shaking it vigorously. “I’m Sam. I’ll be taking the pictures, getting coffee and basically being the slave around here.” He said the word slave like it left a bad taste in his mouth. Seriously, this was NOT what he signed up for.

Hermione opened the bathroom door and stepped out. The Polyjiuce hadn’t worn off, but it had been about to. She would have to be way more careful about when to take the next dose in the future. She noticed Draco holding hands with Sam. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your boyfriend, Malfoy?” she asked with a smirk.

Draco and Sam quickly let go of each other and cleared their throats, their eyes darting around uncomfortably as if caught in a compromising position instead of a handshake.  
“Um, Granger, this is…”

“You’re that photographer aren’t you?” she asked Sam, her voice making it apparent that she disliked him. He was smiling at her, but his eyes were wandering up and down her body like he was a hungry dog and she was a T-bone steak. She recalled the way he leered at her like a sex-crazed pervert back at her flat and here he was doing it again! It was a new feeling to have a man look at her in that way, but why did it have to be this man who was undressing her with his creepy eyes?

“I’m Sam. You’ll be seeing quite a bit of me around here this weekend.”

“How unfortunate,” Hermione said, curling her upper lip.

The smile fell from Sam’s face and he suddenly looked murderous. “What did you just say?” How dare this smart-mouthed, lesbian bitch speak to him this way!

Draco quickly stepped in between them and turned to the dangerously angry man, “Yes, well it was nice to meet you Sam,” he said, shoving him out the door. “Come back anytime!” he called after him and then turned to Hermione, who was still glaring at Sam as he walked down the drive.

“I take it you don’t like him much?” he asked her raising his eyebrow.

“He just rubs me the wrong way.”

“Granger! What’s he doing rubbing you at all?” he asked in mock astonishment, his hand on his heart and his jaw hanging open.

Hermione looked over at him and together they burst out in laughter. “It’s hot in here. Shall we go for a walk or something?” she asked

“Sure, but don’t you try and hold my hand,” he said, opening the door open for her. “I mean it, Granger! Don’t you even attempt it!” he warned her with a mischievous smirk.

Stevens was watching the monitors with interest. There was something odd about the conversation Draco was having with that photographer. The way he looked up at the camera like he was panicked; was he afraid Sam was going to say something he shouldn’t? It was like they knew each other and were trying to play it off. Hermione clearly didn’t know him and she and Draco had gone to school together, so maybe he knew him from somewhere else.

The more he thought about it, the more suspicious he became of Draco. The man was definitely up to something, but what? Those cell phone calls were important and he couldn’t wait to catch the audio from one of them. Maybe then he could figure out what was really going on.

Stevens heard Hermione tell Sam off and then the photographer was stalking down the drive and past the control van, mumbling under his breath. The door to the cottage opened and out came Draco and Hermione, laughing. She was trying to grab his hand and he was pulling it away, scolding her like a child. It was cute- and a little weird. He thought it strange how one minute they were bickering like they hated each other and the next, they were acting all lovey-dovey. Any moron could see that they were attracted to each other and he wished they would just fuck like bunnies and get it over with- now that would be excellent for ratings!

He watched them for a few seconds, knowing he had to break up their happy moment with the news of Blaise Zabini’s arrest. He thought Draco might be happy- one more man down and now he’d be closer to winning the prize. Hermione seemed like the type of person to care about such things, even though she barely knew the guy; she might take it badly.

He put down his box of cheese crackers, chugged his cola and after letting out a huge belch, opened the van door and jumped out. “Lovely day isn’t it?” he said to them with a bright smile. “I’m Mr. Stevens and I’m the director for the remote shoot.” He held out his hand and Draco took it.

“Nice to meet you. We were just going for a walk…”

Stevens sighed as he let go of Draco’s hand. “Well, before you go, there is something we need to discuss; something about Mr. Zabini.”

Hermione looked over at Draco, who seemed just as intrigued as she was. “What is it?” she asked, afraid of the answer. She knew Blaise was very unstable mentally. Perhaps he had flipped out and hurt someone.

The camera man came up behind Stevens and starting recording, which annoyed him.

“Damn it, Mike! Did I tell you to start recording? No I didn’t, so take your camera and go elsewhere until I’m ready.”

Mike stuck his tongue out behind Stevens’s back and then with a roll of his big brown eyes, he walked off.

“Now where was I?” Steven’s asked out loud. “Oh, yes. Mr. Zabini.” He shuffled his feet a bit, feeling uncomfortable. “Er, it seems that he has been arrested for murder and taken away to await trial.”

“Murder?” Draco said in astonishment. “I hope to hell it was Weasley that he killed!” he added with a grin.

Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. “Play nice Draco,” she said sternly. “Mr. Stevens, what do mean? Who did he kill and… what happens now?”

“Well during the confession time, Blaise confessed to having killed and buried some people in his basement…”

“He did what?” Draco asked. “I knew the man was a few clowns short of a circus, but I had no idea he was completely insane!” He thought about all the times he had been alone with Blaise back in school. Any one of those times he could have been thinking about killing him!

“Why would he do something like that?” Hermione asked. “He seemed so nice…”

Stevens glanced around; making sure no one was listening. “I’m told that it had something to do with his wife and child. He seems to think that those men he killed were the same ones who brought some disease into his home that ultimately ended in their deaths. He killed them in revenge.”

“Well then,” Draco said, relaxing, “if he did it to avenge the deaths of his loved ones, then good for him.”

“Draco, you can’t honestly believe that that justifies him murdering those people.” In her mind, there was no excuse for murder. Even when all those Death Eaters had taken over the school, she had not one time aimed to kill.

“You’re damn right I think that, although I’m too much of a coward to go through with it myself as you very well know!”

Hermione remembered that even though Draco and his parents were marked for death by Voldemort, he hadn’t had the courage to kill Dumbledore to save them. “You’re not a coward, Draco. You simply knew it was wrong…”

“Of course it was wrong, but that doesn’t excuse my…”

“Pardon me, but I really don’t have time to listen to your arguing,” Steven’s said, checking his watch. “I just wanted to let you know that he won’t be at the house when you return. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do- like fixing that bed you broke.”

He motioned for Mike and the other camera man he was talking with to come over. “This is Mike and Jack; they will be following your every move when you’re not in the cottage.”

“You mean we get no privacy whatsoever?” Draco asked. “What if I’m out taking a stroll and the sudden urge to urinate comes over me. Will they follow me into the brush and film me taking a piss?”

Stevens was getting annoyed- something that seemed to happen quite frequently these days. “Mr. Malfoy, I am not willing to make my crew witness such a disturbing scene. I’m willing to bet you do not wish your penis to be plastered all over the television viewing area where men will be free to make fun of how small it really is.”

Draco’s face turned as red as Ron’s hair. “How dare you insult me!” he seethed. “Why don’t you waddle your fat ass back into the control room and eat some more cake, you pudgy bastard!” He gripped Hermione tightly by the hand and yanked her. “Let’s go,” he said, and started walking briskly, mumbling curses at Stevens.

“What the hell are you waiting for?” he yelled at Mike and Jack, “Get moving and follow them!”

Hermione was struggling to keep up with him. “Draco, you’re pulling my arm out of the socket!” she said, trying to slow him down. “Why are you so angry anyway? Is it because you penis really is that small?”

Draco halted and spun around, flinging her arm away. He was so mad, his nostrils were flaring and his chest was heaving.

Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Stop looking at me like that, I was joking!”

“Dick size is nothing to joke about, Granger. You don’t see making fun of the size of your tits do you?”

She immediately crossed her arms self-consciously over her chest. “Stop looking at my breasts. I didn’t give you permission!”

“Well, it’s hard not to look when they’re hanging half way out of your damn shirt!”

Hermione’s arms dropped to he sides. “What the hell is it your business if I walk around with them hanging out of my shirt or not?” she asked, fuming. “Or even if I walk around with NO shirt on!” She ripped her shirt over her head and threw it at him, where it landed on his head.

He slowly pulled it off, taking in the picture of Hermione Granger standing there in nothing but her shorts and her bra, her cleavage exposed to the world. It was breathtaking…

Hermione watched Draco’s eyes glaze over and she snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Hello! Are you in there?”

“Huh?” he said, shaking the cobwebs from his head. He managed to focus on Hermione- who was still wearing her shirt like a good and decent girl. For a second he was confused before he realized it had all been a fantasy; a vivid, erotic fantasy. “Wh… what were you saying?”

Hermione frowned, thinking perhaps Draco had gone momentarily loopy or something. “I was asking you what business it was of yours if I walk around with my breasts hanging out of my shirt and then you went all weird on me.”

The camera men came running up and Draco secretly gave thanks that this particular conversation was now over. “How about we go down to the beach?” he asked her. “Maybe we can bury the camera men alive in the sand.”

“Sounds like fun!” she replied, following him down the trail towards the ocean, the sound of the crashing waves assaulting their ears. The sun was setting and they simply stopped and stared in awe as the beautiful pink and orange rays lit up the water, making it sparkle like colorful glitter. “So pretty…” she said softly. “They don’t have sunsets like this at home.”

“They don’t even have sun back home. It rains constantly; always dull and depressing.”

She looked at him from the corner of her eye. “You know, life is what you make it. You’re always dull and depressed, so therefore, you think life in general is and that is simply not true.”

He didn’t bother to answer because she was right. When was the last time he had just simply let go and had some fun? He had been raised in a stuffy, cold atmosphere, in a gloomy home where it was not ‘correct’ to laugh and enjoy yourself. Maybe now was the time to change that, and perhaps this was the woman who could help him to enjoy life instead of spending everyday wishing for the world to end so he wouldn’t have to be so bored all the time. “I’ll race you to the water,” he said, turning to her, grinning mischievously, “on the count of three.”

She crinkled up her face in disbelief. “Did you just say you want to race? Oh-so-proper Draco Malfoy wants to run?” She kicked off her sandals, welcoming the sudden competition.

“Why is that so hard to believe?” he asked, taking off his shoes and rolling up his pant legs.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess you’re right. I’ve seen you run plenty of times when you were afraid you would get your ass kicked by Harry or Ron, so I shouldn’t be…”

“I never ran from them!” Draco said indignantly.

“Onetwothreego!” she said and bolted down the beach towards the water.

Draco stood there for a second, not realizing she had just tricked him and then took off after her, quickly catching up. “I’m going to win, Granger!” he said as he sprinted past her, “I always win!”

Hermione screwed up her face in determination and picked up speed. “I’ll never let you beat me, Malfoy!” The sand was still hot from the sun and it was burning the soles of her bare feet, but she hardly felt the pain. She was almost on him, and he turned around running backwards, his face set with that patented smirk of his that made her want to beat him even more.

“Give it up, Granger!” he shouted.

For a brief second everything seemed to move in slow motion; she saw his gleeful face, the giant hole in the sand that was behind him, and then that glee turned to a comical confused and shocked look as his feet found nothing but air and he was gone.  
She ran right by him, laughing at him as she looked down into the hole that some child had probably spent all day digging, and where Draco was now lying with only his legs sticking above the ground.

He heard her whooping it up as she hit the water, celebrating her win. To make matters worse, one of the camera men kicked sand into the hole as he came to a stop. “Tough luck mate!” he said with a chuckle, zooming in on his face.

“Shut the fuck up and help me get out of here!” Draco said, trying to sit up. Mike sat the camera in the sand and gave him a hand. “She sure is excited about beating you!” he said as Draco dusted himself off. “Shame that hole was there…”

Draco shot him a dirty look and turned to watch Hermione jumping in the waist-high water , the last bit of sun bouncing off the top of her wet head. She was shouting and making fun of him.

“Ha ha, Malfoy! You got your ass beat by a girl!” She stuck her tongue out and gave him a raspberry and then started laughing again.

Draco took off running, loving the fact that the smile sliding from her face and the laughter was dying in her throat. He collided with her, knocking them both under the salty, warm water.

Hermione panicked, trying to get to the surface but the strong waves and the undertow- not to mention Draco’s heavy body- were making it difficult. She managed to roll him over and come up for air, sputtering and gasping, the salt water stinging her eyes and nose. Draco emerged right beside her and she immediately slapped him in the head.  
“What are you trying to do? Drown me?” she said angrily. “Is that how you deal with humiliation? Real mature, Malfoy, real mature.”

Draco shook his head, sending water flying from his wet hair. “I was just having a little fun, Granger.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Fun? Well, I’d say you need some more practice because holding someone under the water is not fun, Malfoy!” She turned around and struggled to keep her balance as she made her way back to shore.

“Granger!” Draco shouted. “Wait! Don’t go. I… I’m sorry.”

Hermione stopped in her tracks. She tilted her head to the side and shook it, thinking there had to be water in her ears that was affecting her hearing because she had just thought she heard Draco Malfoy apologize for something. It had to have been a hallucination or something.

“Didn’t you hear me?” he said loudly as she continues to walk away. “I said I was sorry!” She frustratingly continued to ignore him and so he went after her, needing to make her understand that he honestly was sorry. She was almost to shore when he heard her scream and start hopping on one leg, trying not to fall over as the waves crashed into her. He rushed over, as did the concerned camera men who had been filming from shore.

“Granger! What is it? What happened?” he asked, reaching her and dragging her from the water.

Hermione was in serious pain. It felt like her foot was on fire and it was swelling up right before her eyes. “I stepped on something!” she said, tears falling from her eyes. “Oh, God! It hurts!”

Jack the camera man knelt down, took one look and said, “She either stepped on a sea urchin or got stung by a jelly fish; either way, it’s going to be a painful experience!”

Right on cue, Hermione starting moaning and crying even harder. “Someone do something!” she just about screamed, “I can’t take the pain!”

Draco looked around, panicked. “You there!” he said to Mike, who was still filming, “go get help!” Mike took off like a bat out of hell. Draco glanced over at Jack, who had now turned on his camera to pick up where Mike had left off. “What can I do?” he pleaded, “I need to do something. She’s in pain!”

Jack looked away from the viewfinder and shrugged. “You can always urinate on her foot.”


	15. 15

  
Author's notes: Will Draco pee on Hermione's foot... that is THE question...  


* * *

A/N: THIS CHAPTER IS NOT YET BETA-ED.

"Granger! What is it? What happened?" he asked, reaching her and dragging her from the water. 

Hermione was in serious pain. It felt like her foot was on fire and it was swelling up right before her eyes. "I stepped on something!" she said, tears falling from her eyes. "Oh, God! It hurts!" 

Jack the camera man knelt down, took one look and said, "She either stepped on a sea urchin or got stung by a jelly fish; either way, it's going to be a painful experience!" 

Right on cue, Hermione starting moaning and crying even harder. "Someone do something!" she just about screamed, "I can't take the pain!" 

Draco looked around, panicked. "You there!" he said to Mike, who was still filming, "go get help!" Mike took off like a bat out of hell. Draco glanced over at Jack, who had now turned on his camera to pick up where Mike had left off. "What can I do?" he pleaded, "I need to do something. She's in pain!" 

Jack looked away from the viewfinder and shrugged. "You can always urinate on her foot."

...

"I'm not pissing on her foot!" Draco said, aghast, "what kind of sick shit is that?"

"It works, I tell ya," the camera man said as Hermione lay on the sad moaning even louder. "This one time a mate of mine stepped on a sea urchin when we were in Australia and since I heard about the whole peeing thing before, I tried it and it stopped the pain."

"Really?" Draco glanced down at Hermione. She looked and sounded so pitiful, rolling around crying. He wasn't used to feeling sorry for anyone and it was confusing to say the least. He really must care about this girl if he was going to do something so vulgar. Without another word, he unzipped.

Hermione, who had fallen over onto her back with her foot still held in her hand, looked up into the darkening sky. She saw Draco. She saw his hand wrapped around his penis. She saw him look at her with sympathy, disgust and embarrassment. "Draco..." she said, struggling to sit up and get away, "that doesn't..."

"Please, Granger. Just let me do this and get it over with!" She kept moving her foot every time he went to pee and it was ticking him off. "Damn it, just sit still!" Jack turned his camera light on and it bobbed on the sand with Hermione foot, giving Draco better aim.

She was biting her lip to keep from screaming in agony as she tried to get away from the stream of urine. It was pelting the sand next to her, making tiny, little holes. "Draco listen to me!" she said and then sighed in relief when she heard Stevens yelling for him to stop as he ran down the beach.

Draco turned at the sound of the protesting and ending up pissing on Jack's leg. "What did you say?" The last bit dribbled out as the medic rushed by him and threw himself down next to Hermione.

"What the bloody fuck were you doing?" Stevens asked, shaking his head in shock and disbelief. "Mike said that Hermione was hurt badly, and then I rush down here and see you with your wiener hanging out taking leak on your girlfriend! Are you a fucking moron or something? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Draco zipped up; his face was red with anger at being called a moron and for also being caught in such a stupid situation. It was all Granger's fault. If she hadn't gotten hurt... He frowned at his feeble attempt at placing the blame on anyone but himself. Who the hell was he kidding? If he hadn't cared so much about seeing her in pain, he wouldn't have done something so messed up in the first place. And wasn't it his fault that she had gotten angry and was headed towards shore when she had gotten hurt? Yep, it was his entirely his fault but he would never admit that. "Well, your idiotic camera man here told me that pissing on her foot would take the pain away..."

The medic opened his first aid kit and pulled out a clean, white towel. "Well, Mr. Malfoy, regardless of what this man told you, urine does not diminish the pain and I'm glad we stopped you before you wasted your time." He poured vinegar on the towel and handed it to him. "Here hold this while I get the spines out of her foot, and give it to me the moment I ask for it."

Draco watched him remove the barbs with tweezers and he cringed every time Hermione let out a muffled little scream. The medic asked for the smelly towel and then wrapped her foot in it. Tears were running down her cheeks in rivers, her face was splotchy and red from crying and she kept wiping the snot from her nose with the back of her hand. She was a total mess, but for some reason, Draco thought she had never looked more beautiful.

The medic packed up his equipment. "You need to soak your foot in hot water when you get back to the cottage and then soak it in vinegar again to keep the swelling down. You should be fine in the morning, but I'll check on you anyway just to make sure." He closed up his bag and stood. "You're lucky it wasn't poisonous. All urchins release a bit of venom, but this particular species is not deadly." He looked over at Draco. "She needs to be carried back to the cottage."

‘Does he mean me?' Draco asked himself. Obviously he did because they were all waiting for him. Crouching down in the sand, he took a moment to wipe the tears from her face and smile at her reassuringly. "You're going to be okay. I'll take care of you." He could tell she was not sure of what to make of it and he felt kind of weird in the awkward silence that followed, so he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind- and immediately regretted it-, "I hope you're not as heavy as you look, I don't want to pull a groin muscle carrying you're big ass up the beach."

She flashed her angry eyes at him. "How dare you," she said, slapping at him, "If it wasn't for my foot, I'd kick your..." He dodged her flying fists and managed to get his arms under her, but the last thing she wanted was him to touch her. "Get off me! I don't want you to carry me, I can walk myself!" She kicked her uninjured foot at him and it connected with the side of his head. She felt the impact, saw his shocked face and knew she was in for it now. "I..." she was sorry, but the words just wouldn't come out. "I didn't..."

Draco, who was beyond done with the whole situation, picked her up and threw her over his shoulder amid her screaming protests. "Stop moving around, and shut the hell up," he said and trudged through the sand, his head thumping madly, Hermione's feet dangling dangerously in front of him.

Jack and Mike, the camera men, followed gleefully behind, and Stevens let out a tired sigh of relief. This job was tougher than he thought, and he didn't want to let Mr. Clump down. His first day on his own and he almost had an injury severe enough for medical evacuation! Maybe Mr. Clump would have liked it though. All the drama would make for better ratings and rating were what mattered to the ‘big boss man'- whoever that was. He had been told to even manipulate the situation if he had to in order to make drama. With these two, though, he doubted he'd have to!

...

Draco carried a surprisingly docile Hermione into the cottage loo, sat her gently down on the back edge of the tub, spun her around and placed her feet inside. He then crouched down and turned the bath water on. After testing the temperature, he flipped the lever to plug the drain and sat down next to her facing the opposite way so that his feet were on the floor and waited for it to fill up.

Hermione silently watched him do all this, wondering how someone could be so caring yet such a fucking prick at the same time. She studied him as he held his aching head in his hands. Gone was the boy she had known all those years ago; the boy who had acted with fierce anger and made people cry with his quick tongue and evil wit. Before her sat a grown man who under his tough shell, seemed a little sad, lonely and vulnerable. Had he always been this way and she had just been too blinded by her loathing for him to see it?

Was the reason he turned on the snark so suddenly was because he didn't want her to see that human side of him? Was he afraid of rejection? Of getting hurt? She wondered what his life was like. If he had ever had a girlfriend that loved him for who he was and not for the power, money and success he possessed. Did he go through his life wondering if there really was such a person for him; a person who would love him unconditionally- evil smirk, arrogant attitude and all?

She had never once before this show even considered he was a real person with real feelings that was capable of love. Not familial type love, she knew he loved his parents, but romantic love. Draco Malfoy was able to love... was he able to love her? Better yet, was she able to love him? She thought she was; perhaps she already did. It was a little overwhelming and she started to get emotional.

Draco could sense she was staring at him. Turning and sticking his hand in the water, he swirled it around, watching the ripples around her ankles. "It's not too hot is it?" he inquired, looking over at her. He was distressed to see her tearing up. "What's wrong? Are you in pain?"

"No," she said laughing through her tears.

"Then what..." Her lips were suddenly on his, and although a little shocked at first, it didn't take long to kiss her back. Her mouth was hot and sweet, and the way she slithered her tongue around his made his cock twitch with anticipation. He felt as if he could go on kissing her like this for the rest of his life.

Hermione inched closer, pressing herself against him, one of his hands resting on her lower back, the other creeping up her thigh. Although they were devouring each other hungrily, the kiss still managed to be soft and sensual. Never before had a man's touch felt so erotic, so right. She was dimly aware of the sound of running water and of the footsteps of the camera men, but it all paled in comparison to the sound of her racing heart as she gave in to her desires and kissed him deeper.

Jack looked over at Mike, who was also grinning. "This is..."

...

"Fucking fabulous!" Stevens said jumping happily and punching the air in front of Sam and Lenny, who were gawking at the monitor with bulging eyes. He reached for his phone and dialed Donald's number, not taking his eyes off the live feed from Jack's camera. Mr. Clump picked up after three rings. "Sir, you are not going to believe this, but Draco and Hermione are..."

...

"Kissing?" Donald said. His feet suddenly giving out, he fell into the chair that was thankfully behind him. "You're sure?" Stevens said he was definitely sure because he was watching them go at it like dogs in heat at that very moment. "And you've got this all on tape?" After being assured that two cameras were filming and the footage was immediately going to be archived, Donald hung up. After what he had found in Zabini's house of horrors and the fiasco during the arrest, he was pleased to hear some good news.

He picked up his phone again and called the control trailer at the house to check on how the other contestants were doing. "Jenner?" he asked. There was so much static on the line that he couldn't understand a damn word. All he knew was that Jenner was shouting and seemed a bit angry about something. "Calm down! Is there a..."

...

"Problem!" Jenner said loudly into the phone. "We have a serious problem on our hands here!" He listened to the ear-splitting crackling a second longer and then threw the phone down in rage. "God damn stupid technology!" he snapped, banging his fists on the audio board. "Can't hear a damn thing in the house! Can't hear a damn thing on the phone!"

About a half an hour ago, the wind had picked up alarmingly and rain started to fall in torrents. All the audio in the house had suddenly stopped working and the maintenance personnel so far had been able to fix it. "Incapable loser!" he said, peering out the window as one of them walked by talking on his radio, the wind whipping his hat off his head. He'd have to send his one camera man in to tape and hope it the man knew what he was doing. Mr. Clump would have his ass if he got back and there was no footage for editing.

"Why me?" he questioned God, "Why do you hate me so much, huh? Am I being punished for that wild night in Miami with that stripper? How was I supposed to know she was married to the Mayor!"

Although he was up shit creek without paddle, he tried to look on the bright side; at least he still had visual. There was a sudden crack of thunder that shook the entire trailer, a small click and then all the monitors went black. "Figures..."

...

Back at the remote location, Stevens was in his glory. Draco and Hermione were making out, the water in the tub was dangerously close to overflowing and he could just see the ratings- not to mention his reputation in this business- shooting off the charts. The night was still young and there was a whole other day to go. Imagine what could happen!


	16. 16

  
Author's notes: Draco and Hermione have an incident in the bathroom while all hell breaks loose back at the House.  


* * *

Back at the remote location, Stevens was in his glory. Draco and Hermione were making out, the water in the tub was dangerously close to overflowing and he could just see the ratings- not to mention his reputation in this business- shooting off the charts. The night was still young and there was a whole other day to go. Imagine what could happen!

Jack the camera man took a step towards the kissing couple. His tread-less runners slipped, he gave a comical look of surprise, and there was a loud crash as he hit the floor and the expensive camera skittered across the wet tile. Hermione screamed and grabbed hold of Draco, making him lose his balance, and they both went tumbling into the tub, sending a tidal wave over the side and drenching Mike, who was still filming.

Tangled together in a sopping wet mess, they looked at each other and burst out in hysterics.

“You look like a drowned ferret,” Hermione said, barely able to talk because she was laughing so hard. His hair was plastered to his head and water was dripping off the end of his pointy nose. She reached around him and turned the taps off, her face brushing past his very closely.

“Yeah, well you look like a beaver whose canoe has tipped over and…”

“Damn! I think I split my head open!” Jack moaned from the floor.

Mike swung his camera around, trying to focus on the blood that was pooling around Jack’s head, but the zoom wasn’t working and the viewfinder was so wet and fuzzy, he couldn’t see anything.

“Oh my God!” Hermione said, trying to get out of the bathtub to go to the aid of the injured camera man. “Do something! Help him!”

Draco scrambled to his feet and cautiously stepped onto the slippery tile. Pulling Hermione to her feet, they rushed over to Mike, who was now unresponsive. Draco moved the man’s head slowly to the side. There was a gush of blood from a deep wound just above his left ear.

Mike put his camera down and picked up the one Jack had been using. Luckily it was still working, and he started recording as Hermione picked up a large towel and wrapped it around Jack’s bleeding head. The air was tense, the excitement overwhelming and he knew he was going to get some serious praise for keeping his cool and continuing to film through it all. “Shit!” Mike said angrily as the record light flickered and the camera lost power.

……

“Fucking HELL!” Stevens yelled at the monitors as they both turned to fuzzy static. He shoved the bit of his licorice whip into his mouth and chewed frantically. “Shit! God damn it, don’t they know how expensive those cameras are?” His mind immediately prepared for the worst. If both of those cameras were non-functional, that meant he only had the one Lenny had brought with him. There were cameras mounted in the living room, the bedroom and the kitchen, so the house was fine, but what if they decided to take separate walks or something? He didn’t have enough cameras to follow them. He’d have to rely on Sam’s still photography to fill in the blanks- something he was sure Mr. Clump wouldn’t like at all.

Stevens picked up his walkie and angrily pressed the talk button.

…..

“Mike!” Steven’s voice crackled in the bathroom. “Damn it, Mike, are the cameras still working?”

Mike wiped the water from his face and scrambled to retrieve his walkie from belt. “Afraid not, sir!”

“Who the fuck cares about the cameras?” Draco shouted, “This man’s brains are leaking out all over the fucking floor! Now get the damn medic in here before I fire your stupid ass…” He glanced at Hermione from the corner of his eye and saw her looking at him suspiciously. ‘Fuck!’ he thought to himself. He had finally gotten her to drop the whole idea of him owning the show and now he had succeeded in making her suspicious again. “Just get some help in here, would you?” The last thing he needed was to be sued because someone died on the job.

….

“Someone get the medic in there!” he shouted out the van door. What Draco said was not lost on Stevens, and he could tell by the look on Lenny’s face that he too thought it strange that Malfoy was threatening to fire him. He would have to mention this little tidbit of information to Mr. Clump as soon as they got back. “Sending in Dr. Foster.” He released the talk button and slowly turned to Sam. “I just want to let you know that I’m not stupid.”

Sam looked up at the grinning man and frowned. “What the shit are you talking about?”

Stevens leaned over and got right up in Sam’s face. “I know there is something going on with both you and Malfoy. I know he’s pulling the strings behind this show and I also know you’re in on it.” In reality, Stevens didn’t know jack-shit for real, but it couldn’t hurt to pretend. “I saw you talking to him in the cottage. I heard what you said.”

Sam, whose heart was pounding, didn’t bat an eyelash at the accusations. He knew how to lie when the situation called for it. This was definitely one of those times. Malfoy would castrate him if he blabbed the secret. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Stevens. I’ve never even seen Draco Malfoy before today. I don’t know what you thought you heard, but maybe you need to clean the wax out of your ears, because…” He flinched as Stevens hand reached out and snatched his cell phone from the front pocket of his jeans. At first he thought the man was trying to molest him- the way he went for his crotch area like that. “Hey!”

“Let’s see…” Stevens said, flipping through the top five on Sam’s phone. “Aha! Looky what we have here!” He smiled over at Lenny. “Lenny, get your butt in the cottage and let me know if you hear a ringing noise- like a phone. Take your camera with you, and be careful for God’s sake; it’s the only one we have left!”

Sam jumped to his feet as Lenny ran from the van and attempted to get his phone before Stevens could do anymore damage to the plan, but it was fruitless. “You know, for a fat guy, you’re pretty agile!” he said, trying to wrestle the phone from his hand. “Give me my damn phone, you pudgy bastard!”

Stevens pushed the little guy out of the way and his ass hit the control counter, knocking over an empty energy drink can. “I wonder if a certain person’s phone would ring if I called this number.” He saw Sam’s face turn ashen as he selected the number next the initials D.M. and…

…

Lenny ran inside right behind Dr. Foster and then slowly walked down the narrow hall. He paused in the bathroom doorway and heard nothing but dripping water and Hermione sobbing. There was no phone ringing, so he asked Mike for the walkie, informed Stevens and then started recording.

…

Stevens let go of the front of Sam’s shirt. He had been so sure that number was Draco’s. He handed it back to him, feeling stupid.

“I told you I’d never seen Draco Malfoy before today, you paranoid looney.” He fixed his collar, put his phone in his pocket and picked up his camera. “You have quite the active imagination. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have pictures to take.” He left the van, muttering obscenities under his breath.

Stevens sat down, his hand automatically reaching for his half empty bag of pretzels. ‘Maybe I am imagining things,’ he thought.

…

Back at the Can You Feel the Love house, the storm was intensifying. It was raining so hard that visibility was zero and the wind was so strong it was knocking over trees and threatening to blow out the windows.

“Holy shit!” Ron said, peering out the door. He was immediately soaked from head to toe as the wind snatched the door from his grasp and just about blew it off the hinges. He looked around for Cormac to help him shut it, but the bastard was nowhere to be seen. “McLaggen!” he shouted, struggling with all his might. “Damn it, McLaggen! Get your stinky ass out here and help me close the door!”

Cormac came strolling towards him from the direction of Draco’s bedroom, sat a bottle down on the corner stand and came to help him. Together they managed to get the door shut. “That is one freak storm, isn’t it?” he asked Ron.

Ron agreed. “What were you doing in Malfoy’s room? You weren’t taking a shit in his underwear drawer, were you?”

Cormac grinned, looking quit insane. “No, but great idea, Weasley. I might just have to do that before he gets back. Don’t worry; I’ll make sure he knows it was your idea.”

“You’re such a prick, you know that?” Ron said, “and what the hell is that?” he asked, pointing towards the bottle. It was almost full and had no label. It could have been a bottle of piss for all he knew- and knowing McLaggen, it was a definite possibility!

Cormac grinned, his rotting teeth looking blacker than usual. “Found it in Malfoy’s closet under some loose boards. Whiskey, I think.” He opened it and sniffed. “Yep, whiskey.”

“You think it’s his?” Ron asked. “It’s against the rules to bring alcohol into the house.” He hoped it was Malfoy’s and that he’d get disqualified. He wanted more than anything to get Hermione back and the only obstacle standing in his way was Draco Malfoy, who at this very moment was probably seducing her with his suave, charming ways. He just hoped she wasn’t gullible enough to believe whatever it was he was saying, and let him… touch her. He shivered at the very thought.

“Cold, Weasley?” Cormac asked. “Here, have some of this. It’ll warm you up.” He handed the bottle to Ron. “Drink…” There was a bright flash of lightning, a loud boom of thunder that shook the whole house, and suddenly they were plunged into darkness.

Cormac screamed like a girl and grabbed at Ron, clutching at his shirt and almost knocking him over. “Fuck,” he said, his heart racing in his chest. There was another bright bolt of lightning right next to the house. A sound like a baseball bat cracking in half was followed by the window next to them shattering as a tree fell onto the house.

Cormac jumped right onto Ron, wrapping his legs around his waist and hooking his arms around his neck. Ron almost dropped the bottle in his attempt to peel a whimpering Cormac off him. “Get… off… me…” He finally had to resort to elbowing him in the gut. “Don’t you ever touch me again, you diseased bunghole!” He brushed at his clothes disgustedly, trying not to think that another man had just been crotch to crotch with him. “Stop you’re damn crying and let’s get away from the windows before we get showered with glass again.”

It was pitch-black, but in the flashes of lightning, they managed to slowly make their way into the living room. Cormac got the fire going in the fireplace after many feeble attempts at lighting it with trembling fingers, and he and Ron sat on the floor with their backs up against the sofa, taking swigs from the whiskey bottle. Soon they were blitzed out of their skulls.

“You know something, McLaggen?” Ron slurred, leaning into him. He didn’t know which McLaggen to focus on because there were three of them. “I really do love Heminormee… Himonime… Mohomioni… you know… that girl with the strange name.”

“Yep, I know her. She’s that bird with the big hair and the nice rack that broke my heart.” Cormac took another drink, and the hand he was holding the bottle in felt all strange, like it was disconnected from his body. “I feel really funky,” he said, he head swaying on his skinny neck. His eyes were tiny blood-shot slits and the grin that was plastered across his face showed all his fuzzy, greenish teeth, making him look like a deranged, rotting Jack-o-Lantern in the firelight. He passed the bottle to Ron, who took two huge gulps and then burst out crying.

“Whyyyyyyyyyyy?” he moaned, his face crinkling up in agony. “I love her. I would do anything for her and she wants Draco fucking Malfoy instead. Why?” He looked up at Cormac as if he was God and had all the answers.

“Because, mate, she’s a bitch, that’s why.” He patted Ron on the back. “Simple as that.” He plucked the whiskey bottle from Ron’s drooping hand and set it off to the side. His head was spinning, his face felt all numb and for some reason, rubbing Weasley’s back was making him horny as hell. “All women are sluts who use their pussies to get what they want, and then they dump you for the next man with the bigger dick and fatter wallet.” He inched closer, leaving his hand on Ron’s back and placing the other on the floor very close to his leg. “I say we give up women altogether. They’re not worth the pain. Here, have another drink.”

Ron took a huge gulp of the whiskey, which was now gone, and had to admit that he agreed with the three McLaggens. Perhaps he should just give up. Maybe he was meant to be alone for the rest of his life. If only he wasn’t so damn drunk, he could think this all out properly… He was suddenly aware that the room was spinning more than before, he was sweating profusely, and there was a hand creeping slowly up his thigh which felt kind of good.

…

Donald, who had been at the Ministry discussing Blaise’s incarceration with Harry, Apparated into the middle of a storm. He rushed up the drive, his sports coat over his head, and hurried into the control trailer where Jenner was sitting looking dejected. “Why the hell are you slumped over the controls? Get your ass up and try and fix the problem!” he shouted.

“But sir, the audio and video are out. We have techs working on the problem as we speak, but there’s no electricity going to the house and…”

Donald smacked the man in the head. “Did you bother to turn the generator on?”

Jenner blushed to the roots of his hair. “I… I wasn’t aware that we had one, sir.”

“Well, now you are, so get someone out there immediately to turn it on. It should have come on by itself, so obviously there is something wrong.”

Jenner got someone on the job immediately and within minutes, the audio was restored, but the video and the lights still hadn’t come on. “That doesn’t make sense…” he said, frowning. If the generator was running, the power to everything should have been restored all at once. Perhaps the technicians managed to fix the audio and nothing else. He looked over at Mr. Clump, who had turned on every video monitor and was now sliding the audio controls louder. “Sir…”

“Shh!” Donald snapped, “Listen!”

Jenner’s jaw dropped as he heard the voices from the house.

“You know, Weasley, I’ve always wanted to do this to you.”

“Mmmm…”

“You like that, don’t you?”

“Mmmm…”

“You’re so damn hot. I love the way you taste.”

Donald and Jenner looked at each other in sick amazement as they realized what all the sucking and moaning sounds could only mean.

“Get the damn lights up!” Donald yelled. He wanted desperately to catch what was going on in the house on camera. They had audio, but it just wasn’t enough! The sound of the rain and wind was less intense, so he hoped the storm was over and everything could get back to normal.

“Feels so fucking good…oohhh… yes…”

The monitors in the trailer suddenly came to life. It was still a little dark in the house because the lights hadn’t fully come on, but what they saw made them recoil in horror.

There, on the floor, was Ron Weasley, the back of his head resting on the sofa. He was moaning in ecstasy. His fingers were tangled in Cormac’s greasy hair as the man bobbed up and down on his cock.

“Quick,” Donald said in a whisper, “hand me that pencil.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to gouge my friggin’ eyes out with it!”

They watched as Cormac sucked harder, making Ron’s hips buck off the floor as he fucked his face, screaming that he was going to explode. Donald zoomed the camera in to try and get a better angle and had to hold back the dry heaves as it focused on the couple.

Jenner was holding a small trash bin in his lap, his face as white as a sheet. There was a flicker and all the lights in the house came on, illuminating the disgusting scene before them. Jenner couldn’t take it anymore and when he saw the close up of Cormacs mouth, rotten teeth and all, dripping with Ron’s cum, he tossed his cookies in the bin.

…

The room was suddenly bathed in bright light and Ron looked around; he was so trashed that his eyes couldn’t focus right away, and he was upset that someone had had the nerve to wake him up from the awesome sexual dream he had been having about Hermione. That dream… if only she knew how to suck dick like that in real life! A big grin spread across his face as he struggled to sit up, his energy spent, body still tingling from that amazing orgasm. It had seemed so real, just like her mouth was really wrapped around him… licking… sucking… stroking his balls… He narrowed his eyes, his vision slowly coming back. There was something wrong, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Looking around, he took in everything at once: The empty bottle of whiskey on the floor, his pants unzipped and his flaccid penis hanging out. McLaggen’s ugly face hovering over his, the smell of sperm and decaying teeth heavy in the air, and then he screamed, screamed like his ass was on fire and there was only petrol to put out the flames.

Cormac immediately tried to shut him up by climbing on top of him and smashing his mouth down on his, which made Ron’s sanity break.

…

“Holy shit!” Jenner said as they watched Ron flip out. He grabbed Cormac by the throat and threw him off. Cormac was dazed, but managed to struggle to his feet.

“Why are you so angry, Weasley?” he asked with a chuckle. “Is it the fact that you let a man suck you off, or that you enjoyed it?”

Ron growled in anger and reached for the empty bottle. “I’ll kill you, you fucking sick mother fucker!” he shouted, smashing the bottle on the floor, and then he was up in a flash, running after Cormac with the jagged, broken bottle-neck.

…

“I think I should put a stop to this before we have another contestant arrested for murder,” Donald said, heading towards the door. “I’ll take security with me just in case.” Stepping out into the chilly, wet air, he was thankful it had stopped raining. Trees were down everywhere and maintenance men were running helter skelter trying to clean the mess up.

Three security guards threw open the door and pulled out their guns. Donald entered behind them, just in time to see Cormac on the floor with a crazed Ron standing over him, threatening to slice him open like a pig. “Weasley,” he said, stepping cautiously towards him. “Just please, put the bottle down. He’s not worth going to jail for, now is he?”

Ron took his eyes off the cowering man in the corner and looked over at Donald. “You have no idea what this man did to me! He… he…” Ron couldn’t even finish the sentence; he was so embarrassed and disgusted.

Donald thought he’d spare him the shame. “I know what he did, Mr. Weasley, and if I were in your place, I’d probably kill him as well, but if you do, then it will be all over the news. Do you really want the entire world to know what you let him do to you?” Donald knew this would work. After all, what man wanted it spread around that another man preformed a homosexual act on him?

“You… you saw what he did to… to me?” Ron was mortified.

“The power was down for most of it, but yes, we have parts of it on audio and even some on video.”

Ron wanted to cry, he was so humiliated. What were his parents going to say and what about Hermione? She was going to be totally sickened and probably never look his way again! “You’re… you’re not going to show any of it on television are you?” he asked desperate to hear a ‘no’.

Donald thought about lying but then changed his mind. “Bottom line is that it isn’t up to me, Mr. Weasley. The decision ultimately lies in the hand of the boss, but I’m sure being a man of integrity, he would never allow this incident to be broadcast across the country.” He wasn’t too sure this was exactly true, but what the hell, if it got Weasley to put the bottle down, then so be it.

Ron looked down at Cormac, who was still lying there with his arms thrown protectively over his head. This man was a sick, twisted fuck who deserved to die, but Donald was right: he wasn’t worth spending the rest of his life in Azkaban for. “Here,” he said, handing the broken bottle to Donald. “I don’t want to be eliminated from the show and I definitely don’t want to go to prison, so I’m going to trust that your boss will do the right thing.”

Donald took the bottle and handed it to the nearest security guard. He then helped Cormac to his feet and the man had to hold onto a small table to keep his balance. “Wise decision, Mr. Weasley. Now, it’s getting late, and may I suggest you both go and shower and take a much needed rest? I’ll leave a guard outside your room for this evening just as a precaution, Mr. Weasley.”

Ron thought a shower sounded pretty awesome at the moment, but there was still something he had to take care of. He took a step back and hauled off and kicked Cormac in the balls as hard as he could. “That’s for raping me, you perverted mother fucker!”

Cormac doubled over and with a loud moan of agony, and once again fell over onto the floor. Ron turned and with a triumphant smile, made his way down the hall to his room, followed by a security guard.

Donald and the others left Cormac rolling painfully around on the floor, holding his swelling balls. As he walked out the front door, Donald pulled out his mobile phone and called Myra to give her the low-down on the present situation.

…

Myra was sitting in a salon getting her nails done and her upper lip waxed when her phone rang. “This better be important,” she snapped.

“Aren’t you just a little ray of sunshine?” Donald said sarcastically.

Myra shooed her manicurist away. “Donald! How are you? I’m afraid I can’t talk long because my masseuse will be here any second.”

Donald rolled his eyes. Here he was dirty, sweaty, and stinky. His nails full of crud and his clothing mussed and wrinkled and she was sitting back getting a fucking massage! Life was not fair. Not fair at all. “I’ve got some interesting news for you to relay to the boss, so listen closely…”

…

Sam walked into the bathroom just as the Doctor and Mike were carrying the wounded camera man out. He gave Draco an intense look, meaning to tell him he needed to speak with him desperately. Draco lifted his brow in question and then nodded slightly.

“Aren’t you coming, Malfoy?” Hermione asked him on her way out. She gave Sam the once over, curling her lip in distaste as he snapped a picture of the carnage.

Draco thought fast and came up with an excuse not to leave. “I think I’ll stay here and clean up the mess,” he said, looking around at the bloody water that covered the floor. “You go ahead, though.” He held his breath, knowing in his heart that she would see right through him. After all, the very thought of Draco Malfoy volunteering to clean anything was a serious indicator that something was amiss.

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion and then with a frown, turned and left the room. Draco exhaled and quickly closed and locked the door. There was no audio or video in the bathroom, so he knew they could talk freely. “What the hell is wrong now? You looked like you’re pissed about something.”

“Fucking Stevens is on to us. He told me right to my face that he knows something is up.”

Draco gave a small chuckle of dismissal. “He doesn’t know shit.”

“He took my damn phone and dialed your number!”

“But my phone didn’t ring…” Draco said, feeling his soaked pants pocket. “Damn it all to hell!” he said, pulling out it out. It was dripping water and he doubted it would ever work again. “Now what the hell am I supposed to do? What if someone needs to get a hold of me?”

Just as he finished the sentence, Sam’s phone rang. “Hello? Myra!”

Draco watched the conversation with intense interest. If the faces Sam were making was any indicator, something exciting was definitely going down.

“What? You’re… Oh my fucking hell! You’re not serious? He did what? That is the sickest shit I’ve ever heard…”

“What is going on?” Draco whispered though clenched teeth.

Sam waved him off and continued talking, his eyes bulging from his head in excitement. “I’d be sick as a dog too. What? Of course I think the boss will want to use it! Let me make a call to him and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.” He flipped his phone shut and immediately started laughing. “You’re so not going to believe what just happened back at the house.”

“Stop your damn cackling and tell me what the fuck is going on!” Draco said, shaking the man in frustration.

“There was…” he could barely get the words out he was laughing so hard. “There was a storm and they… they lost power.”

“What the hell is so funny about that? We’ve lost valuable footage you moron! What the shit are they supposed to show on Tuesday?”

Sam had to lean on the sink to keep from falling over, he was so hysterical. He waved his hand in front of his face. “Wait! That’s not what so funny.”

“Well, then what is?” he snapped angrily.

“McLaggen found some booze in your room and he and Weasley got toasted…” Sam took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down for the reveal. “They… they… oh my GOD, I can’t even say it!”

“What!”

Sam put his hand on Draco’s shoulder and looked him directly in the eyes. “They were having sex…”

“No!” Draco said in disbelief. “Weasley and… and McLaggen?”

“Weasley was so fucking smashed that he thought it was Hermione that was sucking his dick and when he figured out it was McLaggen, he went berserk and tried to kill him.”

Draco was momentarily struck dumb by the news. He tried not to picture McLaggen and Weasley going at it, but no amount of will power could keep the vision from his mind. It would haunt him to his dying day.

“Donald wants to know if you want him to use the footage in Tuesday’s episode.”

“What?” Draco asked, coming out of his disturbing day dream. “Use the footage?” He smirked delightfully. “Of course I want him to use the footage, only…” he thought for a second. “Tell him to use only the sex part, not the scenes with Ron flipping out or the part where he tried to kill McLaggen. I want the viewers (and Hermione) to think Weasley is a flaming homo who wanted McLaggen to suck him off.”

Sam smirked back, loving the deviousness of his boss’s mind. “I’ll let them know!”

There was a sudden loud knock on the bathroom door and Hermione’s voice floated through the wood. “Why is the door locked, Malfoy? What are you and that photographer doing in there?”

Draco scrambled to make it look like he had been mopping up the water and blood. He threw some towels on the floor and got down on his hands and knees. “Sam, let her in.”

Sam opened the door and smiled at her. “I was just taking a piss and didn’t want anyone to walk in on me.”

Hermione raised her eyebrow as if saying ‘what the hell kind of excuse is that? Do you really think I’m that stupid?’ He pushed past her, making sure to rub up against her breasts and with a chuckle, he walked off down the hall. Once outside, he called Myra and informed her of Draco's decision.

Hermione picked up a towel and knelt down beside Draco. “He’s going to be fine, he might need a few stitches and a day or two in hospital because of his concussion, but he’ll survive.”

Draco pretended to care. “I’m glad. I was worried because there was so much blood.” He hoped he sounded sincere.

Hermione said nothing, but was secretly pleased that he cared so much about someone other than himself. Perhaps he had matured after all these years, and maybe he did deserve a second chance… with her.

Draco looked over at her from the corner of his eye. She was sopping up a puddle, her head titled to the side, her hair behind her ear. It took everything he had not to take her in his arms, tell her everything and let the cards fall where they may. Being a total coward though, he just couldn’t chance it.

They cleaned in silence, lost in their thoughts, and when the bathroom was sparkling clean again, Hermione finally spoke. “Well, I’m bushed,” she said, trying to conceal her huge yawn behind her hand. He was leaning on the wall, looking sweaty and exhausted, and she found herself thinking he looked even more sexy than when he was well made up and showered. “They fixed the bed earlier and…”

“Let me guess,” he said, pushing off the wall towards her. “You want the bed and for me to sleep on the sofa?”

Hermione had been thinking about sharing the bed with him, but then she realized how many times during the night she would have to get up to take the Polyjuice. She couldn’t risk having him roll over in the middle of the night and see her morphing back into her old self. If she slept alone, there would be no accident like that, and she could make sure she was up early enough to take the potion before he saw her. “Well… you see I don’t think I’m ready to…”

“Say no more, Granger. I’ll take the sofa and you can have the bed. Don’t say I never gave you anything,” he said with a smile.

“Um, thank you for being so understanding,” she said, taking his hands in hers.

Their eyes locked and they stood in uncomfortable silence, not knowing what to do next. Hermione wondered if he was going to kiss her and if she was supposed to let him and Draco wasn’t sure if Hermione was expecting him to kiss her goodnight or if she would think that a bit too forward. He decided to take the middle road and hugged her instead.

“Good night, Granger.”

“Night, Malfoy,” she said, quickly leaving the room to hide her disappointment. She changed into her nightgown and climbed under the covers. Staring up at the ceiling, she knew it was going to be a long time before sleep was going to come; there was so much to think about.

Draco found an extra pillow and blanket in the hall closet and fixed up the sofa as comfy as he could. He lay on his back, his arms under his head, staring up at the ceiling. He knew it was going to be a long, sleepless night and he wondered what excitement tomorrow would bring…


	17. 17

  
Author's notes: Hermione and Draco have a romantic time on the beach.  


* * *

Hermione awoke to the clanging of pot and pans and for a brief second, she couldn’t recall where she was. “Shit!” she said, sitting up and jumping out of the bed. She threw the blanket over her head like a hooded cape, hoping that no one in the control van had seen her looking ‘not like herself.’

Shuffling over to her suitcase, she gingerly brought out the Polyjuice Potion and took a swig. Almost immediately she could feel it working, and she once again found herself wondering who the woman was that she was walking around pretending to be. Did she know that she had an impostor, or was she an unsuspecting victim in all this? Perhaps one day she would meet her and ask.

Sticking her head out of the door to make sure the coast was clear, she snatched up some clean clothes and her toiletries and hauled ass to the loo to take a bath. Upon exiting, all clean, her hair still dripping wet, she made her way to the small kitchen to see Draco once again cooking in his boxer briefs. She stopped in her tracks, all the spit dried up in her mouth as she just stood there, unable to even breathe. He was just so damn sexy and she couldn’t help but watch the taut muscles in his ass as he whisked eggs in a bowl.

“Granger, stop ogling me and sit down and have some breakfast,” he said, reaching into the cupboard and pulling down two plates.

She couldn’t see his face, but she was sure he was smirking. “Well,” she said, rolling her eyes as she walked over to the tiny table and took a seat, “it’s not every day that I see a half-naked man in my kitchen…”

He turned around, his eyebrow raised in amusement. “Is that something you’d like to see every morning? Because I can arrange it for you.”

Hermione envisioned Draco popping in at the crack of dawn every day to cook her waffles wearing nothing but an apron and she squirmed in her seat. “As appealing as that sounds, I’ll have to pass. What if I had company? I’m sure my lovers would have something to say about another man… a naked man… burning toast and pouring coffee in the kitchen.”

Draco was in process of placing freshly squeezed orange juice on the table and was so shocked by her comment that he dropped it, splashing sticky pulp all over Hermione. “You… you actually have lovers?” he asked, automatically handing her a napkin. He had never given a thought to her love life other than her relationship with The Weasel, and it came as a great shock to him that she might be ‘that type’ of girl. Then again… maybe she was lying. “When’s the last time a man stayed the night in your bed, Granger?” he asked, sopping up the juice and then taking a seat across from her. He thought perhaps he could catch her off guard with this question, and he was right.

Hermione blushed, and continued to clean herself off. “Well… you see I’ve been rather busy and… there have been so many… times goes by so fast, and I simply can’t remember the last…” She could feel him watching her and was sure he was finding the idea of her having lovers totally ridiculous. He was probably laughing his ass off inside his head. She ventured a glance at him and he was sitting there, his left eyebrow lifted up in amusement, a piece of bacon on its way to his smirking mouth. She threw down the soiled, sticky napkin and snapped, “Fine! Never, okay? I’ve never had a lover spend the night. Hell! I can’t even get a man to take a second glance at me, let alone have sex with me. I’m so damn hideous that I’d have to resort to bashing them over the head with a brick and then dragging them back to my home! So there, are you happy now? I’ve totally humiliated myself for your enjoyment!”

She pushed her chair back roughly and stood up so quickly that the chair teetered on its back legs and then fall over. She glared at him, daring him to utter one laugh, one mean word. When he did nothing but stare at her and grin, she turned and stomped out of the house, slamming the screen door as hard as she could.

Draco chuckled to himself, ate a few more slices of bacon, wiped his mouth with a napkin and then decided to get dressed. He supposed he needed to go and find Hermione…

…

Stevens watched Draco and Hermione’s little conversation on the monitor as he sipped his bitter, black coffee and munched his fifth granola bar. He was glad that at least they had the mounted cameras in some of the rooms or else he’d be up shit creek. Both Jack and Mike’s cameras were useless now, and all he had was Lenny’s. He’d have to depend on him to get the footage if one of them decided to wander off, which it seemed Hermione was about to do…

Stevens elbowed Lenny, who was snoring in the seat next to him. “Lenny! Hermione’s on the move; now get your tired ass up and follow her!” he ordered as she marched past the van, mumbling under her breath. Lenny answered with a loud snore and rolled over in his chair, letting out a stinky sleep-fart that smelled like stale potato chips. “Wake up, you good for nothing loafer!” Stevens shouted, smacking the man in the face.

Lenny opened one bloodshot eye and slowly stretched. “What time is it?” he asked, lazily scratching at his balls.

“Time for you to do what we pay you for, you lazy bum,” Stevens said angrily. “Now get your shit together. Hermione is on the move and since you have the only working camera, you get to follow her.”

Lenny (space in front) slowly hooked up all his equipment, grabbed his walkie, and with a humongous yawn, opened the van door and hopped out. The last thing he wanted to do was to stand there taping Hermione for hours as she just there staring out at the ocean. He wanted to go and lie down and sleep for days. He had jet lag and the half a bottle of Scotch he had for a midnight snack wasn’t helping matters any. His head was pounding, his stomach was queasy and he was kicking himself for not stealing some crackers from Stevens food stash. He followed the path down to the beach, popping some aspirin into his mouth and dry-swallowing them. He knew it was going to be a long day.

…

Hermione stomped her way down the beach, her bare feet kicking up sand. It was already stiflingly hot out, and sweat was rolling down her back. She felt so stupid for blowing up on Malfoy, but she just couldn’t help it! Her sex life- or lack there of- had always been a sore spot with her and it was just so humiliating to have to discuss it with someone like him.

She headed for the shore; the salty, warm breeze wafting through her almost dry hair, forming it into a tangled mess she knew would be painful to comb out later. Taking a seat in the wet sad, she wiggled her toes as a tiny, foamy wave washed over them and then disappeared. The sun was bouncing off the surface of the ocean blindingly and she sighed sadly as she looked out over the water, watching the seagulls crying and circling hungrily.

It was so peaceful to sit here, away from all the cameras, and the stress of the game. If only she had never gone with Ginny that day, and she had never seen that advertisement in the newspaper. She would probably be at work right now, deep into some research, not even thinking about men or sex or…

She jumped out of her skin as Lenny sat down next to her, his camera in her face. She wanted to curse him out and tell him to leave her the hell alone, but she knew she couldn’t; and he was only doing his job, so she tried to ignore him.

After about ten minutes of zooming in and out on Hermione, the ocean, and the scenery, Lenny was so bored he was beginning to contemplate suicide. He almost jumped for joy when he saw Draco coming across the beach towards them. Maybe now there would be some excitement!

Draco could see her sitting there looking sad, and he couldn’t help but want to run over to her, take her in his arms and say something to make her feel better. Instead, he just sat down next to her and said nothing.

Lenny’s smile faded from his face when he realized that now he had two somber people staring out at the ocean, and that maybe nothing exciting was ever going to happen. The thought of spending any more time here being this bored was too much for him to take and so he stopped recording. “You know, the both of you need to get over yourselves and just admit how you feel before it’s too late,” he said as they both looked over at him, confused.

“What?” Draco asked.

Lenny stood up, his head was hurting again and the world was swimming and he knew sometime soon he was going to puke. “Let me tell you a story… a true story. Once there was a man who loved a woman. She was the most beautiful woman on the face of the Earth. Golden hair, bright, blue eyes the color of sapphires… He came close many times to telling her how much he loved her, but being a coward at heart and afraid of rejection; he only loved her from afar. Through the years, he watched from the shadows, slowly dying inside as he saw her love other men- laugh at their wit and smile at their tender words... He knew it should be his jokes she was laughing at, his lips that should have been pressed against her ear vowing true love for her.”

He closed his eyes as if picturing it all in his mind. “Once, while he was studying her from across the room, she happened to turn and catch his eye, and to his astonishment, she smiled. Well, of course the man was ecstatic! He mustered all his courage and walked across the room to introduce himself, and that’s when he noticed…”

Hermione, wide-eyed, was eager for him to continue. “What? What did he notice?”

Lenny opened his eyes and looked at her sadly. “He noticed the engagement ring on her finger. He tried not to break down in front of her, but his heart was crushed as she spoke excitedly about her fiancé and how much she loved him and couldn’t wait to spend the rest of her life with him. See, he had waited too long and now he had lost her forever. Because of his fear, she never knew what she could have had.”

“What happened to him… and to her? Was she happy with the other man?” Hermione asked.

“She was happy at first, but soon her husband showed his true colors. He treated her horribly, cheated on her, physically abused her and gambled all their money away. She finally went out of her mind, shot him and killed him and then took her own life.” Lenny pause for effect and then went on, “He ended up a bitter, sad old man and died a lonely death, pining for his lost love. His last words before he took his final breathe was her name... ”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Are you trying to tell me something, Lenny?” he asked with a snort. “Are you trying to say that I’m going to let her slip away and die kicking myself in the ass for not having enough courage to tell her how I feel?”

Lenny nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to say. I was there on that plane when you kissed. I saw first hand the passion you have for one another. I don’t know exactly what went on between the two of you in the past, but I think it’s about time you grew up, admitted your feelings and stopped being stubborn assholes! Now kiss and make up! My fucking head hurts and in about two seconds I’m going to hurl all over the sand…”

Hermione and Draco looked at each other as Lenny resumed taping and spoke at the same time.

I…”

I’m…”

“You go first.”

“No. You go.”

“That’s okay. I’ll let you…”

“Somebody go before I lose my patience and run stark raving mad across the beach!” Lenny said. He knew he’d get in trouble for speaking to them on camera- that was a no-no, but he just couldn’t take it any more! They could edit him out later.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable back at the cottage,” Draco said, feeling like a pansy for apologizing. “I didn’t mean to make you angry, but the thought of some other man being in bed with you… touching you and… and, you know… having sex with you… well, it pisses me off!” He found it hard to look in her face while he admitted this; it felt so alien to talk about his feelings this way, and so he stared at the sand on his feet instead. “I just wanted to know if it was true and I didn’t mean to upset you or make you embarrassed.”

Hermione put her fingers under his chin and lifted his head. “Why does it make you so angry, Draco?” she asked, “there has to be a reason.”

He had looked a woman in the face plenty of times before and told her that he loved her, but he had never really meant it. It was always just something he said to get them into bed. This situation was entirely different, though. This time he really did care for the girl and it had nothing to do with sex. Well… sex was a part of it, but not the whole part.

As he looked into her big, expectant eyes, he could feel what tiny bit of courage he did possess being beaten to a pulp by the bigger and stronger cowardly part that dominated his psyche. He wasn’t sure he was capable of telling her- EVER.

Hermione could sense his struggle and she could totally sympathize with him. This whole situation was bizarre, and she was certain he felt just as strange discussing it as she did. “Back at the house, when you sang that song to me during the challenge, I could feel how much you meant every word. I could feel it, but I chose to not trust it because of things that have happened in our past. You treated me like shit for years, and there where times when I prayed with all my heart that you would just die.”

“What do you m…” he started to ask.

“But I’ve come to slowly realize that you just didn’t know any better. It’s not your fault you were raised like you were, and I’m proud of you for finally thinking for yourself instead of being daddy’s little puppet.”

“Gee, thanks Granger, but…”

Hermione interrupted him again, “Please, Draco, let me say this before I lose my nerve.” He told her to go ahead. “Since that challenge, I’ve tried to shove you away, to ignore what’s happening because I don’t want to get hurt. I’m scared of the feelings I’m having for you, Draco. I’ve never been more frightened in my life, and I don’t know what to do.”

Draco wanted so damn badly to just come clean and tell her everything- how he owned the television station, how he manipulated her and everyone else just to make sure she was on the show, the times he walked past her office at the Ministry just to catch a glimpse of her sitting at her desk. How he dated the woman she now looked like just because she slightly resembled Hermione if he squinted and it was dark... Most of all, he wanted to tell her that he might just be falling in love with her. “Hermione,” he said, taking her hands in his. “I…” he found the words were stuck in his throat, choking him to death. He was scared and mute- it was frustrating to say the least.

She had poured out her heart to him and here he was, staring at her like a dying carp. He really was a coward and he was going to end up like that old man in Lenny’s story. She was going to get away just because he was too scared to open his fucking mouth and risk everything. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and he wasn’t sure if it was the salty ocean air or the shrill squealing of the seagulls, but he could feel his courage returning and the fear subsiding. He was going to go for it. He was going to reveal everything! “Hermione, there is so much I need to tell you…”

Plop!

He stopped in mid-sentence and his eyes met hers. She was smirking, on the verge of laughter. “A bird just shit on me, didn’t it?” he asked with a frown. He could feel it on his bare shoulder, warm and runny. “Don’t you laugh, Granger,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Don’t you dare!”

She couldn’t contain it any longer. The look of total horror when the shit hit him was priceless, and possibly one of the funniest things she had ever seen. Once she started laughing, she couldn’t stop, and she was soon giggling like mad.

“I told you not to laugh, G…” he started to say when the same bird that had defecated on him so shamelessly flew down and landed right on the top of his head.

Hermione just about died. She pointed at the seagull that was perched on his head like some tacky hat Neville’s Gran would wear. “You… look… so ridiculous…” she said, tears streaming down her face, barely able to breathe from laughing so hard.

“Get off me, you stupid fucking bird!” Draco said, jumping to his feet and smacking at the gull. It gave an angry squawk and took off into the air in a fury of wings and feathers. He looked over at Hermione, who was getting to her feet, hiccupping and crying tears of mirth. “Think that’s funny, do you?” he asked, wiping the huge clump of bird shit off his shoulder. “You won’t be laughing when I smear this in your hair!”

Hermione immediately stopped laughing and with wide, desperate eyes, begged him not to do it. He only grinned at her, taking a step forward. She could tell he was in a playful mood and even though she doubted he was going to really do it, you never knew. After all, this was Draco Malfoy, the most unpredictable man on the face of the Earth. Why take any chances?

He lunged. She felt his shit-covered hand come dangerously close to her face and then she was gone; running across the sand with him close at her heels.

Lenny was too tired and nauseous to run after them, so he popped a few more aspirin and slowly followed, the world spinning and his stomach churning.

“Draco! No!” Hermione screeched, looking behind her. He was gaining and in a split second she was tackled to the ground. “Stop!” she said, laughing. “No, don’t!” Half-heartedly struggling, she immediately stopped and the laughter died in her throat as he pressed his body onto hers. With her heart hammering in her chest, she opened her eyes and they met his. They were pools of swirling silver; mesmerizing and beautiful. No man had ever gazed into her eyes with such lust, and she found herself wishing for him to run his hands over her body, to make love to her right there in the sand.

Draco had never wanted any women more than he wanted Hermione at this very moment. He could feel her soft, supple body under his, and the way she was looking at him made his cock twitch with desire. Slowly, he leaned in and when their lips met, it was like everything else ceased to exist.

His kiss was soft like butter; sensual and hot. This was nothing like the kiss on the plane. This was… something more. She could feel the heat in her body increasing as his kiss deepened.

Lenny finally caught up with them only to find them in the throws of passion; groping and kissing like horny animals. “Damn!” he said, pressing record. No more than a minute into the filming, Lenny’s stomach lurched and he dropped the camera, which landed in the upright position and happened to get a wonderful shot of Draco and Hermione still making out. He took a few staggering steps, leaned over and threw up all over the sand.

Draco and Hermione stopped kissing and looked over as he fell to his knees and puked again. “Talk about a mood-killer,” Draco said.

Hermione chuckled. “I suppose we should see if he’s okay.”

…

They helped the sickly man back to the van, and Stevens was so delighted about the kissing scene he could barely contain himself.

“Just wait until Mr. Clump sees this!” he said happily. “Of course we have a lot of editing to do what with Lenny here barfing in the background, but I say we’ve got gold on our hands! Too bad Sam didn’t get any stills of it, we could have used it in an ad campaign or something. Oh, well, perhaps we can just take a frame from the video and do it instead…”

Stevens babbled on, and Lenny decided he needed a nap so he left and went over to his tent. Draco and Hermione sat inside the van with Sam and Stevens as they went over the footage, both blushing uncomfortably when they got to the make-out part.

“Gold, I tell you! Gold!” Stevens said, chewing his gum loudly.

…

Later that evening, Draco and Hermione were treated to a sunset dinner on the beach. A waiter in a fancy outfit brought them plates of grilled swordfish in pineapple curry sauce with a side of rice pilaf. Hermione picked at hers, too nervous to eat. She looked out over the ocean as the sun went down. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked in awe.

Draco smiled. “Yes, you are beautiful,” he said with a wink, sipping his chilled, white wine.

“I was talking about the sunset, silly!” she said, rolling her eyes.

“What?” he said, glancing over at the horizon. “Oh, I suppose it’s beautiful too, although I’d rather gaze upon your lovely face for all eternity…”

Hermione gave a tiny laugh. “You know, you can be quite charming when you want to be.”

“Problem is,” he said with a smirk, “that I never want to be! It’s much more fun to be a little devil.”

The meal went smoothly- their banter light and fun, and after they ate their dessert of strawberry pie, they strolled along the shore for a bit before heading back to the cottage.

As they walked past the van, they could hear an audible ‘aw!’ from the crew inside who thought it downright adorable that they were holding hands.

He held the cottage door open for her, and they went inside. Hermione flipped on the light and slipped off her shoes. She didn’t know what to say. The night had been perfect, and she didn’t want to ruin it by saying something stupid just because she hated the uncomfortable silence.

He ran his fingers through his pale hair, yawning. “We have a long trip tomorrow morning, and I’m bushed. I think I’ll head to bed. How about you?”

Hermione wasn’t the least bit tired, but followed him to the bedroom anyway. He grabbed his blanket and pillow from the top of the dresser and headed for the door. Another night on the sofa for him…

Something inside Hermione couldn’t bear to see him leave and before she knew it, she was reaching out for his hand to pull him back into the room. “Wait…” she said softly, biting her bottom lip, blushing. She reached behind him and shut the door.

“What?” he asked, confused by the tone of her voice and her body language. If he didn’t know any better…

“Will…? she asked, looking everywhere but at his face. She never dreamed it was going to be this hard! “I… know the sofa can’t be that comfortable, and seeing as there is more than enough room in the bed…”

Draco raised his eyebrow, the corners of his mouth curled into a sly grin. “Hermione, are you saying what I think you’re saying? Are you asking me to sleep with you?”

Hermione found the courage to look him in the eye. “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she said, pressing her body to his. He tossed his blanket and pillow to the floor as she pulled him onto the bed.

…

Back in the control van, Stevens, Jack, Mike, Lenny and Sam all watched with smiles as the couple climbed under the covers.

Return to Top


	18. 18

  
Author's notes: Hermione finds something very interesting that could blow Draco's cover.  


* * *

A/N: I WANT TO GIVE BIG HUGGLES TO MY Beta, Lady Lynn!

The plane laded on the tarmac and Draco jolted awake, sure that he had just exploded in his trousers. He looked over at Hermione to see if she had noticed his huge erection, but she was staring out the window, deep in thought. He grabbed the pillow from the seat next to him and placed it nonchalantly over his crotch, and still she didn’t look over. She had been like this all day and he was starting to get annoyed. What the hell was wrong with her, anyway?

She had been really quiet even before they left for the flight back; acting all melancholy and just very strange. All of his attempts at conversation had been cut short when he realized she wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to what he was saying. She just stared at a spot above his head and a bit off to the right. More than once he found himself turning around to see what it was she was bloody looking at, but there was nothing there.

There were times throughout the day when he would glance over and catch her just staring at him like he was some hideous beast and her mind was trying to comprehend what she was seeing. On one of these creepy occasions, her face suddenly crumpled in anguish and she fled from the room in tears. He had gone after her, finding her in the loo with the door locked. He stood there; his hand paused to knock, listening to her crying. He was at a total loss as to what to do, so he just decided to do nothing.

He hoped with all his heart that she didn’t regret what had happened the night before, but it was beginning to look as if she did. Why else would she be acting the way she was? Usually when he had sex with a woman, she was all over him after that, kissing him, waiting on him hand and foot, giggling and acting like a love-sick puppy. Granger wasn’t doing any of these things. Maybe she was upset because she thought he had used her for sex… or maybe… she had used him and now she was feeling guilty! He thought back to last night and sure enough- it was her who initiated the entire thing. Could she have played him?

As he watched her looking out the window of the plane in a daze, he decided to make her talk because he couldn’t stand the silence any longer, and he wanted answers. “Granger?” No response. “Hey, fuzzy head!” Still nothing. “Damn it, Hermione! The least you can do after using me for your sexual pleasure last night is to talk to me!”

She looked over at him quickly, eyes flashing with that anger he recognized and loved so well. “How dare you accuse me of using you!” she shouted, swiftly unbuckling her safety belt and jumping from her seat. She took one giant step and then was hovering over him as he slunk down in his seat. “If anyone used anybody, it was YOU using ME!” Her finger poked him hard in the chest as she enunciated the last part of her accusation. “You sit there looking so smug. Proud of yourself, aren’t you? Proud of the fact that you charmed you way into my knickers and made me look a fool?” She flinched in bewilderment when Draco started to chuckle. “I don’t see what the hell so damn funny Malfoy!

Lenny giggled excitedly, coming out of his bored stupor. He turned on the camera and zoomed in on a furious Hermione and an amused Draco. He was happy to have something to film.

“You… thought… I… thought…” Draco gasped for air, trying to stop from laughing.

“What the bloody hell are you trying to say?” Hermione asked.

“He’s trying to say that you thought he used you and he thought you used him. He finds it funny that you’ve wasted your last day alone together worrying about something so stupid and I agree,” Lenny said from behind the camera matter-of-factly, “You’ve been acting all sad and grumpy for no reason.”

“Oh, shut up, Lenny!” she said. There was a reason she had been acting the way she had and it just wasn’t the fact that Draco had been using her for sex. No, it was much, much more than that.

When she had woken up at the crack of dawn, he had still been sleeping, and she was glad she could get to the Polyjuice without worrying about him seeing her. She wondered what had possessed her to do something as stupid as have sex with Draco Malfoy while cameras whirled and crew men watched with prominent boners in the control van. She shuddered at the thought of all those people who were going to be seeing it on show. Unless she got to Mr. Clump and begged him to keep it out, she was sure it was going to be the highlight of the next episode.

After sipping the Potion and checking the mirror, she walked quietly over to the bed and looked down at Draco. He was sleeping on his side, the white sheet lay across his bare hips, crumpled and no longer smelling of floral laundry soap, but like sex. Reaching out her hand, she brushed the pale hair from his forehead, thinking about how wonderful it was to be with him- not just in a sexual way, but just simply talking and laughing- like normal couples did. Were they a couple now? She didn’t know, but she hoped so.

A few short days ago, she had still thought of him as an arrogant, evil git whose sole purpose in life was to make others as miserable as possible. Now, she looked at him in a totally different light. How was it even possible that she was willing to risk her heart for this man that had caused her so much pain in the past? Love is a mysterious thing, and she decided to leave it at that.

She caressed the side of his face, relishing the scratchiness of his stubble under her fingertips. Never before had she felt this way about anyone and she planned on never living without that feeling again.

After kissing him lightly on the forehead, she started to gather up their clothes from the floor. She hated clutter and preferred her world to be neat and organized. Clothing strewn about was not acceptable. Picking up her discarded knickers from the floor, she tossed them into the bag she had designated for dirty laundry. Scooping up Draco’s pants and shirt, she headed over to his suitcase to put them inside and that’s when she saw it.

It was his cell phone. She immediately dropped his clothes and snatched it up; heading for the one place she knew didn’t have a camera- the bathroom.

……

Sam was on duty in the van while everyone else was off taking a nap, but he, too, was exhausted and found himself falling asleep on the controls more than once. He didn’t see Hermione wake up and find the phone; he was too busy sawing logs and drooling all over the audio board.

……

Hermione ran on her tip toes down the hall and shut herself in as quietly as she could. Leaning on the door, she raised the phone to eye level and flipped it open. She gave an excited noise not unlike a mouse that’s stumbled upon a wheel of Swiss, and started to press menu options, deciding to look at his pictures first. There were photos of people she didn’t recognize, but from the look of them, they were high society and snobby- people she didn’t want to know. She saw a few pictures of a border collie with a gem-studded collar frolicking through a well-maintained yard and even one of Draco letting the dog lick his face. She smiled at that one because it made him seem more real somehow.

Her joy quickly turned to horror as the next one came up. It was Draco again, but this time it wasn’t a dog licking his face, it was a woman kissing him- the same woman she now looked like! All the air went out of her lungs and her stomach was flip-flopping as she looked at the rest. Here she was with her arm around Draco, looking directly at the camera phone, the Eiffel Tower in the background. She was immediately floored by the resemblance to herself. She had thought the person she was impersonating looked nothing like her, but seeing her in this photo made it quite clear that she did- in a weird way. They didn’t look enough alike to be twins, but they could be sisters.

“Who are you?” she asked the woman in the picture who was beaming with what could only be love… love for Draco. The very thought of someone else being in love with him made her seethe with jealousy, but she quickly realized that what she should be feeling was righteous anger, not jealousy! Obviously, her lover boy had something to do with the Polyjiuce Potion if not the entire show, and he had been fucking with her this entire time. “God damn him to hell the little bastard!” she said, pressing menu again.

She searched through the phone numbers in the memory and randomly dialed one that said T.N. “Fucking Bastard!” she said again through clenched teeth as she listened to the phone ring one, two, three times.

….

“Un… wha?” Sam mumbled in his sleep. He lifted his head, his eyes blood-shot little slits. For some reason, he thought there was a tiny music band in his head playing the theme to Jaws. “What the shit?” he said, rubbing his forehead, trying to make them stop. It didn’t do any good and the band-nerds kept playing.

“Fuck!” he said, suddenly realizing it was not a teeny weeny orchestra, but the ring tone for his cell phone. He saw it was Draco’s number and he was immediately wide awake. He had thought his phone was a goner, having been under the water in the bathtub. What a nice surprise!

“Theo Nott, sex machine at your service. That was some straight-up kinky shit you and Granger did last night!” he said right off the bat. “Dude, it was hot as hell. I swear I was tempted to fuck the hell out of one of Stevens’ donuts.” He laughed a little, sounding like a sick hyena. “I wish I could have gotten some pictures…”

….

Hermione listened on the other end, her face getting redder and redder by the second. So, Theo Nott was really that creepy photographer, and he was in on it all! She listened as he went on and on about the love making session last night and was about to hang up out of pure annoyance, when he suddenly switched topics and it became much more interesting.

….

“I think you’ve succeeded in getting her to fall in love with you, but what the hell is going to happen when she finds out you’re the man behind the scenes? I mean, come on now! We both know the girl is going to flip her wig and I wouldn’t be surprised if she killed you. I wouldn’t blame her either, hell if someone tricked me the way you did to her, I’d be out for blood, too!” He took a sip from the can of flat root beer next to him and then babbled on some more. “I still don’t understand what you see in her…”

….

Hermione had heard enough, she closed the phone and slowly slid down the door. There she sat, holding tightly to her knees, crying about her stupidity and his meanness. She should have known better than to believe anything he said, after all, the name Malfoy was synonymous with liar.

….

“You didn’t use ME?” she shouted, the lump in her throat giving way. She could never remember being so damn angry in her entire life and she knew she was crying, but she was helpless to stop.

Her sudden tears had him on his feet. “I would never do that to you, Hermione,” he said, taking her quivering hands in his. He was concerned, but totally ignorant as to what to do. What happened to make her doubt his feelings again? “How could you even think that of me?”

“It all boils down to trust, Draco,” she said, “I don’t trust you and I don’t think I ever can. I don’t want to live my life wondering if the man I love is being unfaithful or lying to me.” She slipped her hands from his and they fell to her sides. “You’re playing me for a fool. I think- no… I know for a fact there is something more going on here and I know you’re behind it all.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, frustrated. His heart was pounding against his rib cage like a frightened bird smacking a window.

“I know about Sam, Draco, or should I say Theo? I know who you are and I know what you’re doing.”

“We’ve landed and are ready to…” the flight attendant started to say from the doorway.

Draco didn’t even look her way. “Please! Can’t you see we’re talking here?” he snapped. The woman blanched in astonishment and turned, making her way back to the cockpit, Lenny zooming in on her retreating ass. He quickly swung the camera back to Draco, though, as the arguing continued.

“You don’t trust me, huh?” Draco said to Hermione, his face flushed and angry red. “I’m not going to even try to defend myself because I can’t. You have every reason in the world to not trust me and after I tell you everything, I have no doubt you’ll never want to see me again!” He glanced over at Lenny. “Lenny, get your ass off the plane, take your camera with you, and tell the captain and flight attendant to vacate as well.”

Lenny was not about to leave. He knew something big was about to happen and there was no force in Heaven or Hell that could make him go. “I have a job to do, and…”

Draco turned on him in a fury. “I SAID TO GET THE FUCK OFF THE PLANE YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT!”

“But…”

Draco picked up the pillow and pegged it at Lenny’s head as hard as he could. “Lenny, if you don’t go, I’m going to open that door and throw you head first onto the runway. Don’t make me kill you, Lenny.”

Lenny ducked just in time. “Damn, man! You don’t have to threaten my life! I’m going!” He turned off the camera and headed for his seat. “Let me just get my shit and I’m out of here.” He glanced up and as Draco turned back to Hermione, he reached into his bag, pulled out a mini audio recorder, and pressed record. He tossed it into his seat and shouldered his bag.

His curiosity was overwhelming and he would have given his first born son to stay and listen, but he supposed if the recorder picked it up, he’d know everything soon anyway. So, with a jaunty wave of his hand, he was off to the cockpit to inform the crew they needed to get the fuck off the plane and in a hurry.

It was hard for Draco to be patient as he waited for them to leave, when he just wanted to scream out his confession and then beg and plead for her forgiveness and understanding. He watched her sit back down and revert back to staring out the window. He could see the tears slowly running down her face and he wanted to kill himself for being the cause of them.

After the captain shut the door, it was dead silent in the cabin. It was Hermione who broke that silence. “Why, Draco?” she asked in a quiet voice, choked with sadness. She slowly turned her head towards him. He was still standing in the same spot, looking crushed and guilty. “I don’t understand why you would do this to me. Do you hate me that much?”

“I don’t hate you at all!” he said, rushing over and falling to his knees in front of her. “Don’t you see? I did all of this because I wanted to be with you. I felt like this was my last resort.”

Hermione rolled her swollen eyes in disbelief. “Do you think I’m stupid, Malfoy? I saw the pictures on your phone. I saw you with that woman and I don’t know why, but I think something happened between the two of you and that’s why you’re giving me the Polyjuice to look like her. You miss your long lost love and you want me to take her place. Well, let me tell you something, I will never be her.”

Draco almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of her accusations. “Granger, that woman’s name is Sophia, and the only reason I ever went out with her was because she resembled you a tiny bit. I broke up with her because… well… she wasn’t you and I didn’t want a sad replica, I wanted the real thing.”

He thought he saw something in Hermione’s face, and he hoped it was a glimpse of understanding. “Listen; did you not notice me hanging out at the Ministry quite frequently? Never found it peculiar that I walked past your office ten times a day when the only thing on that floor is a broom closet, your office and the loo? Did you tell yourself I was looking for a mop or perhaps that I had some Prostate issues?” He smiled at her, but didn’t get one back, and that was very frustrating. “I woke up in the morning needing to see you; I went to bed at night thinking about the next day when I could see you again. I was obsessed; I was a crazed lunatic who couldn’t control himself.”

Hermione did always find it annoying the way he walked back and forth past her door all damn day and more than once wanted to throw something at him and knock him out so he couldn’t do it any longer. “Are you telling me that you concocted an elaborate and expensive plan to woo me by purchasing a television station, putting a reality show on the air whereby through the manipulation of hundreds of people, you became a contestant and I the prize? Wouldn’t it have been easier to just walk into my office and ask me for a date?”

Draco lifted his brow, a smirk spreading across his face. “I tried… once. It was right before this whole reality show thing started. I can recall exactly what you were wearing that day: those pearl-grey robes that shimmered in the sunlight that came streaming through your office window. Your hair was held back from your face by a black velvet band, but some loose tendrils had escaped and you were blowing them out of your face in annoyance.”

“I guess you were obsessed,” she said with a trace of a smile.

Draco was relieved that she seemed to have calmed down and was listening to reason. “Well, I don’t know what came over me, but there I was, stepping into your office with every intention of asking you to have dinner with me, when you looked up and scowled.”

Hermione remembered it like it was yesterday. She had been so busy that day and the amount of research she had to get done in order to turn her report in on time was overwhelming. She was stressed, tired and PMS-ing. The last thing she needed was for Draco Malfoy to start shit. “What do you want?” she asked, annoyed. “I’m busy, as you can plainly see, Malfoy. I don’t have time for your stupid name-calling or your immature attempts at wit. I have work to do, so get out.” She had been so mean to him that day, and now was feeling awful about it. If only she would have known what he was really there for!

Draco watched her stare off into space again, chewing her bottom lip frantically. He knew she was thinking about that day and he felt a stab of guilt that he had made it that unforgettable.

”When you insulted me with your harsh words,” he said, “all my courage flew out the window and I knew then that I was a complete idiot for even thinking there was a chance you would have accepted my offer. The anger and humiliation was so great that I just blurted out the first thing that came to my mind. “Just popping in to tell you that you look positively grotesque today. In fact, you’re face is so ugly, it looks like someone set it on fire and put it out with a shovel. Have a shitty day, Granger!”

Hermione couldn’t help but look over at him in disgust as he mocked himself. “You know, that remark hurt me more than anything you had ever said before. I was still upset about Ron cheating on me, and feeling worthless and unloved, and then you come along with your forked tongue and made it even worse!”

Draco could see she was getting pissed off again and that was something he couldn’t afford. “But you see, I didn’t mean any of it! I’ve wished a million times over that I could go back in time and do it all over. I felt like a total shit for saying that to you.”

“You looked like you thoroughly enjoyed it to me!” she snapped.

Draco watched her fold her arms angrily over her chest and decided to push on. “After I walked away from your office I knew I had blown any chance I had of being with you, so I went back home and posted a newspaper ad looking for contestants. I had already bought the television station because… well… this is going to sound dumb, but I bought it because it was something Muggle and I thought that perhaps if you saw I didn’t have anything against Muggle-borns any longer, you’d like me more. Obviously, I never got the chance to tell you, and after what had happened in your office, I decided to try and forget about you- to try and move on.”

“How stupid!” Hermione blurted out. “You’re saying that because you realized you could never have me, you invented a show so you could find someone else to love?” She didn’t know whether to be flattered that he needed to go to such lengths to get her out of his mind or if she should be pissed that he gave up so easily.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he said, “I was totally floored when I saw your application come across my desk. Of course, I thought it was fate and had to change the whole synopsis of the show. See, the original plan was for me to be to be surrounded by beautiful women who would compete for my love.” His knees where getting tired, so he took the seat next to her as the pins and needles ran laps up and down his lower legs.

Hermione had so many questions; she was having a hard time finding one to start with. “You must have been shocked when I came up with that little plan of mine that backfired, huh? I thought I was so smart saying I’d only sign if the men I picked did. I was so sure they would never get you to do a Muggle television show!”

“I told Clump and Shanks that if they didn’t find a way to get those men to sign the contracts, I was going to fire their asses. Of course, Clump is a master manipulator when he has to be, and the girl Weasel was pleasantly easy to persuade.”

“And what would you have done if Wood or Ron or any of them refused to go along with it?” she asked. She could hardly believe the words that were leaving his lips. It all seemed like a bad plot line from some corny soap opera, like Days of the Restless.

“Everyone has a price, Granger, and if offering money didn’t work, it wasn’t hard to find their weaknesses and exploit them to my advantage. All in all, Clump did an excellent job. Zabini was the one I was most worried about because he was certifiably nuts, but Weaslette managed to talk him down from whatever psycho plain of existence he was living in. Too bad I didn’t know he was a fucking mass murderer at the time…”

Hermione looked at her watch- it was almost half past eight. The sun was setting on this horrible nightmare of a day, and she was glad it was almost over. It was time to lay this disaster to rest. “So let’s see, you had probably already assumed you would get your way and had started brewing the Polyjuice made from your ex-girlfriends pubic hairs as soon as you saw my application, right?”

“Well…”

She gave him no chance to answer, but kept on talking in her increasingly angry voice. “After fucking with their minds and emotions, Mr. Clump managed to get the men on board and then it was a piece of cake from there. Hiring your ass-kissing friend Theo Nott to be the go-between so that no one knew you were in the one in control, and changing the rules as you saw fit!”

“Gra…”

She shot him a look that said ‘you better not say another word or I’m going to rip your tongue out and make you eat it!’. He decided to stay quiet and let her rant. Maybe she’d get it all out of her system and then everything would be peachy.

She suddenly stood up and headed for the door of the plane. “You think what you’ve done is okay, don’t you? Well, it’s not, Malfoy! Who the hell do you think you are that you can play God with people’s lives? Sure, you made me fall in love with you, just like you wanted, but at what price?”

He got up and followed her, grabbing her at the elbow and spinning her around. “Damn it, Granger, I haven’t done all this for nothing! I refuse to let you walk away from me like this!”

Hermione wrenched her arm away. “You can’t tell me what to do. You don’t control me like you control this game!”

“I don’t want to control you. I only want you to love me!” The desperation in his voice surprised even him. “Please, Hermione, I’ve told you everything. I have no more secrets; nothing to hide.”

She almost gave in… almost. “What you’ve done, you have done out of selfishness. You’ve been controlling the game from behind the scenes and that not only makes you untrustworthy, but a liar and a cheat as well. Until you can win me over without games, without manipulation, I want nothing more to do with you.” She turned the large handle on the door and pulled it open, stepping out onto the ladder.

“Granger.”

“What?” she said turning around.

He wanted to pull her back onto the plane, lock the door and hold her hostage until she saw how much she was wrong about him. He wasn’t the horrible person she thought he was and he wanted to prove it. In the end though, what he said was: “I need you to promise me you won’t tell anyone about me running the show.”

Hermione thought he was going to make a last ditch effort to make her see how much he cared about her, and she was greatly disappointed to see his only concern was for himself. “I’ll keep your damn charade a secret, Malfoy, but let me tell you something. You better win the next challenge, or you ass is history!”

Draco watched her walk down the steep stairs and to the car that was waiting to take them back to the set. This was not the way he wanted to tell her. Everything had gone to shit, and it was all his fault- like always. Would he never learn to do things the simple way instead of using fucked up plans that seemed to always backfire in his face? He thought maybe after this fiasco, he would.

When he reached the bottom step, Lenny came running over and Draco was eternally grateful that at least his whole confession hadn’t been caught on video or audio. That would have been a disaster! “What’s up, Lenny?”

“I forgot my… my bag. I need to get it, it has expensive equipment inside.” Draco looked at him very suspiciously, and Lenny was sure he had been busted. Draco had probably found the recorder and was now going to beat his ass into the ground.

“Fine, go and get it, and while your up there, you might as well bring down the rest of the luggage.”

Lenny let out the breath he had been holding and run up the steps as fast as he could. He crossed the cabin and picked up the mini device, which was still recording. He stopped it, rewound it a bit and pressed play. “I need you to promise me you won’t tell anyone about me running the show.” It was Draco’s voice and what it said made Lenny dizzy with disbelief. He couldn’t wait to get back to the set to listen to the rest. Putting the small recorder into his pocket, he took Draco and Hermione’s bags from the overhead and struggled to the car with them.

….

The ride home was excruciating. No one said a word and the only sound was the radio that seemed to only play sad, depressing love songs.

They dropped Hermione off first, and even though Draco offered politely to help her with her bags, she refused with a cold ‘no, thank you’ and carried them inside by herself. He wasn’t so depressed about her anymore, what he was was determined. Determined to make things right. To get her back and to prove he wasn’t a slimeball.

They pulled out in front of the House and Lenny looked over at him. “Looks like you screwed up, huh? That’s too bad. If I had a women like her, I’d do anything to keep her.”

Draco frowned at him and got out of the car where he was met by Stevens and Donald. The last thing he wanted to do was discuss this past weekend with two, so he ignored their pleasantries and made a bee-line for the house.

….

Ron heard the front door slam shut and he supposed it was Malfoy. “Hey ferret! How was your weekend?”

“Fuck off, Weasley!” Draco said without looking at him. He headed straight for his room where he slammed the door so hard it made the windows rattle.

“What the hell is his problem?” Cormac asked.

Ron gave him a sly grin. “Looks like Malfoy’s weekend didn’t go so well.”

….

The crew spent almost all of Monday editing the footage for the show on Tuesday. Donald was more than pleased with the work Stevens had done on the remote shoot- especially the sex scene! When Hermione approached him to ask to have that part left out, he told her that he wasn’t going to show most of it because it was just too graphic, but there was no way he would be able to edit it all out. The boss wanted it shown. He had expected her to scream and throw a fit, but she only sighed and walked away.

He wondered what had happened back on the island to make her and Draco so unhappy. It had to have been something huge to cause them to go from making love to not even speaking to one another. He decided to view the footage of that morning more closely to see if he could spot anything. Searching through the endless hours in fast forward, he finally found it.

He saw them sleeping and then Hermione got up, trying to hide her face from the camera because she ‘wasn’t herself’. He saw her drink the potion and then after a minute or two, she checked the mirror. He saw her standing there looking down with affection at a sleeping Draco, and then she started to pick up the clothes from the floor.

Donald suddenly leaned forward. “What the hell?” he said and rewound it to watch it in slow motion. “Draco’s cell phone!” he almost shouted as he saw her pick it up and then leave the room. “She must have found out something she didn’t like and that’s why they’re not on speaking terms.” From the beginning, he thought there was something odd and suspicious about that man, and now it looked like Hermione had some interesting information. Would she be willing to share?

He would have to ask her, but not now. There was too much to do and they were going to be announcing the next challenge to the three remaining contestants in about thirty minutes. He needed to get the crew back in here and make sure everything was up and running. “Stevens!” he shouted. “Get your fat ass in here and calibrate the machines. And where the bloody hell is that recording of Oceancrest?”

…

The men were called into the living room, and as soon as they were seated, Brian Oceancrest’s smiling, handsome face appeared on the big tv screen. “Good evening, gentlemen! It’s time once again put your skills to the test.”

Immediately, Draco began to feel sick. He had no idea what the next challenge was going to be because he refused to be told ahead of time. Theo had been pissed, but Draco wanted to win this one on even terms to prove to Hermione that he wasn’t a cheat. He just hoped it was something he knew how to do.

“Please make your way to the basement recreation room where your next challenge will be revealed. Good luck, and I’ll see you on Thursday. Oceancrest out!”

“I didn’t even know we had a recreation room,” Ron said to Draco as they followed Cormac, who seemed to know the way.

“Neither did I.”

They went through the kitchen and down a flight of stairs. The room they found themselves in was bright, spacious, and filled with tables, sewing machines and dress forms.

“What the hell?” Coramc said as he looked around. “Tell me we’re not going to be sewing anything!”

“That’s precisely what you’re going to be doing, Mr. McLaggen!” said a tall, thin, strikingly beautiful woman with a strange foreign accent. She walked towards them, her legs like those of a gazelle, and stopped in front of a covered table. “Hello! My name is Heidi Flume. You may recognize me from the reality show Top Catwalk Design Project.”

The men all looked at each other, not recognizing this sexy Muggle woman, but wishing they did.

“For your next challenge, you will be designing an evening gown for Miss Hermione Granger using only these materials.” She pulled the cover off the table, and all three contestants gasped.

“No fucking way!” Draco said in shock.


	19. 19

  
Author's notes: Theo has a talk with Hermione as the men get ready for the next challenge.  


* * *

A/N: This chapter contains images of rape. Although a not Canon Character, I still wanted to warn you!

 

Hermione entered the control trailer and glanced around. Donald was examining a clipboard, looking sour and tired and Stevens was pressing buttons and yelling into his headset that there was something wrong with camera one. On one of the monitors, the men were listening to Brian Oceancrest as he announced that they needed to head to the recreation room for their next challenge. Theo looked over at her as she bumped his elbow while trying to get into the corner; she started to apologize before realizing who it was. He still looked like his alter-ego, which she thought did him no justice. He was really a nice looking guy as far as evil bastards go.

 

“Hello, Granger,” he said with a sly grin.

 

“Hello, Theo.” She curled her lip in disgust and quickly averted her eyes back to the monitors.

 

“Nice to hear my true name again. I was getting tired of Sam. What a hideous name.”

 

“And Theodore is any better?” she said, rolling her yes, but still not looking at him.

 

“Look, Granger, you have no room to talk smack about anyone’s name. Hermione? Were your parents drunk of their asses when they named you, or did they just hate you that much?”

 

That got a reaction and she couldn’t help but look over at him. “At least I’m not spending my time being Malfoy’s little pet! I would have never guessed you were such a subservient lap dog.” She smiled at him sweetly, loving the way the flush of embarrassment was creeping over his face. “Does he pay you in rawhide bones?”

 

“He doesn’t have to pay me, Granger. I help him because he’s my friend.”

 

Hermione lifted her brow, not believing a word of it. Malfoy and Nott were not the type to have friends- slaves and worshippers yes- but friends? No. “If you’re trying to tell me…”

 

“Will you two shut the fuck up?” Stevens snapped, turning his head in their direction. “We’re taping a damn show here and I can’t hear the fucking audio over your chattering!” He turned back to the monitor and checked camera one, which was still not working right. “Now, either sit down and shut your pie-holes or get the hell out!”

 

Hermione quickly took a seat and much to her dismay, Theo decided to sit next to her- way too close for her liking. She decided to try and ignore him and watch what was going on in the recreation room. Heidi Flume was walking towards the contestants, looking oh so glamorous. She stopped and grasped the black cloth that was draping the table in front of her. Hermione and Theo leaned in closer, intrigued.

 

“For your next challenge, you will be designing an evening gown for Miss Hermione Granger, using only these materials.”

 

“What?” Hermione asked, looking over at Donald, who only shrugged. She sat back in the chair and folded her arms over her chest defiantly. “I’m not wearing anything those buffoons sew!” She could only imagine what the gowns would look like, and it wasn’t pretty. “No way.”

 

“You don’t have a choice, now do you?” Theo said with a smirk.

 

“You never know, Hermione,” Donald said, trying to soothe the rage that he could see was slowly building inside her. “One of them may be a talented frock maker.”

 

Hermione doubted it very highly. The camera zoomed in as Draco swore, before focusing on the items on the table. Now Hermione was really worried.

 

….

 

“No fucking way!” Draco said in shock. The other two men were speechless in horror.

 

There on the table were three bolts of material; a black satin, a green silk that reminded Cormac of his mother’s dusty drapes, and lastly, a hot pink velour that was so bright it hurt their eyes. There were also various colored crinolines, laces and ribbons. It wasn’t this normal fabric that caused Draco to swear, but the accessories they were to use that made him and the others stare in a state of shock.

 

Heidi gave them a bright smile that could have given Brian Oceancrest a run for his money. “You must use at least four of the offered accessories to adorn your gown.”

 

“But…” Ron started to say and just stopped. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the buffet of ludicrousness that was spread out before him. There were rolls of aluminum foil, plastic wrap and toilet paper. Bowls of colorful confetti, beads, buttons and sequins that were shaped like cats, dolphins and snowflakes were scattered along the table. Also, there were shakers of glitter, stacks of colored tissue paper, construction paper and squeeze bottles of paint among the other accessories. His eyes roamed down the table and he saw tiny silk flowers, acorns, pinecones, sand, bright yellow Easter grass and even un-popped popcorn. It looked like craft supplies for a five year old.

 

“You have got to be kidding me,” Cormac said, his eyes pleading with Heidi. “This is a joke, right?”

 

Heidi shook her head. “Sorry, Cormac, but this is no joke.” She turned and motioned for someone behind her to come forward. They had all been so stupefied by the table that they had failed to notice the very well dressed man in the corner, with well coiffed white hair and glasses. “This,” Heidi said as he sauntered forward, his expensive shoes making no sound on the linoleum floor, “Is Jim Dunn. He will be your advisor on this challenge.”

 

“Hello, designers!” he said in a voice that made it quite impossible to tell if he was a snobby Brit, or just an arrogant gay guy. He handed Heidi a black velvet, drawstring bag and then stood there, looking over his glasses at them as if sizing them up.

“In this bag are three buttons; one button for each designer. The name I draw first will not only get first choice from the table, but first pick of the models.”

 

Down the stairs came three very tall, beautiful women who were wearing nothing but a small black slip dress.

 

Ron could barely believe what he was seeing. He had always heard tell of women that were so beautiful it could take your breath away, and now he was living it for real. To think he would be working along side one of them- close enough to smell, to touch! He was getting a boner just thinking about it.

 

“This is Tasha,” Heidi said, gesturing towards a golden-haired woman with bright blue eyes and dimples. “Ashley,” she named the stunning one with creamy white skin, long, luxurious auburn hair and eyes the color of caramel apples. “And last but not least, is Jenna.” This girl was the tallest, the thinnest and the most attractive. Her skin was naturally golden brown; her sparkling eyes and silky hair were as dark as a raven’s wing and she carried herself like she knew she was the shit.

 

 

“I will now pull the first name from the bag.” Heidi reached in and pulled out a button. “Draco. You’re first.”

 

Ron and Cormac looked at each other, pissed. It was just like Malfoy to get picked first. The last thing they wanted was for him to grab the best material and hottest model before they could, and both secretly and independently decided to try and sabotage him during this competition. He’d already spent enough time with Hermione, and it was time someone else had a chance.

 

…

 

“Hmph!” Hermione said as Draco’s name was pulled first. “Imagine that! Malfoy’s name is chosen first.”

 

“What are you trying to say, Granger?” Theo asked, his nostrils flaring.

 

She wanted to shout that he was a damn cheater, a fake and a selfish piece of shit, but instead lowered her voice so that only Theo could hear. “You know exactly what I’m saying. He runs this show, he’s a fraud and being the cheater he is, he probably forced them to pick his name first.”

 

Theo grabbed Hermione by the arm and jerked her to her feet as on the monitor, Draco was choosing the black satin, tiny pink silk roses, white ribbon, pink and silver glitter and some buttons that looked like huge, fake diamonds.

 

He also, much to Hermione’s dismay, chose the most beautiful model, Jenna. “Of course he’d pick her, wouldn’t he?” she huffed, her jealousy boiling over. “She’s probably working for him already. Maybe she’s his secretary and gives him blow jobs under his desk every morning…”

 

“I want to talk to you… alone,” Theo said through clenched teeth. He dug his nails into Hermione’s arm, making her wince.

 

“Sto…” She had no time to protest before he rudely shoved her out the door, Donald and Stevens looking after them curiously. He pulled her across the yard, digging his fingers into her arm painfully, and as soon as they were out of ear-shot of the house, she turned on him in a fury. “How dare you put your hands on me!” she said, twisting out of his grip and shoving him in the chest. “Just because I’m not afraid to say the truth doesn’t give you the right to man-handle me, Nott!”

 

“Truth?” he snapped, dangerously close to her face. “You wanna know the truth, Granger? The whole truth?”

 

He was scaring her and she took a step back, her ass hitting the trunk of the maple tree behind her, making her stumble. She caught her balance just in time for him to put his hands on either side of the tree, caging her in. He looked like a wild man; his eyes bulging and crackling with anger. “Theo…” she said, her voice full of warning, “I suggest you step back or…”

 

“You forget, Granger. You are wandless now, and seeing that I’m more physically fit than you, I do believe I have the upper hand. Now shut the fuck up and listen for once in your life!”

 

“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. You two are all buddy-buddy and in this together and like I’d believe anything you said, Theo. You’re just as big of a liar, cheater and swindler as he is!”

 

“Oh my fucking…” he said, pushing off the tree and clenching and unclenching his fists. “I just don’t… see in… pay me enough… annoying little… AHH! Fucking… why won’t she just listen!”

 

He paced back and forth, mumbling under his breath and Hermione was becoming increasingly uneasy. She glanced over to her right and thought perhaps she could make a break for the house. Just as she made her move, he turned back and stalked towards her. She held out her hands in front of her. “Please…” she closed her eyes, sure he was going to pounce on her and throttle her to death. When nothing of the sort happened, she slowly opened one eye and then the other, and saw him standing there, running his hand through his unruly brown hair. He looked exhausted, and although still a little agitated, he was at least calmer than before.

 

“Granger, Draco has handed over complete control of the station and the show to me.”

 

It took a second for Hermione to register what Theo had just announced. “He did what?”

 

“Yes, Granger. He signed it all over. Lock, stock and barrel. That is how much he wants to be with you.”

 

Hermione knew that Draco Malfoy relinquishing control of anything was extreme, and suddenly she felt guilty about jumping to conclusions. “I can’t believe he would do something like that.”

 

“Shocking, huh? Unbelievable that Draco Malfoy would give all this up for you, right? Here, all along, you thought him some heartless monster who cared only for himself and would stop at nothing to get what he wants. Sad that you were sitting in that control room thinking the worst of him, when he was more than willing to hand everything over everything he owns just to prove to you that he really does love you.”

 

“I… I don’t even know what to say.”

 

“Whatever needs to be said needs to be said to Draco, not to me. I’m telling you this though, I am no longer going to stand by and do nothing when someone like you or your sainted friends talk shit about him. You have no bloody idea what that man has been through.”

 

“What has he been through that was any worse than what any of us went through?” she asked. “We all lost people we loved and some of us even lost our own lives. You can’t use what happened as an excuse to think you can manipulate people for your own selfish gains. Hell, Harry lost numerous people he cherished and you don’t see him fucking people over to get ahead in life!”

 

Theo sighed in frustration. She was the most irritating woman he had ever met, and he had no frigging idea in Hades why Draco liked her so much. She was a Grade A 100% pure bitch; opinionated, close-minded and preachy, and he could only imagine what life with her would be like. Suddenly, he felt sorry for Potter and Weasely. “Walk with me, Granger.” He waved her on and after a tiny hesitation, she joined him.

 

They walked along the property in the warm sunshine for a bit, each lost in their own thoughts. The grounds weren’t that big, and so Theo slowed his pace to give him time to say what he needed to say.

 

“Has Draco ever told you about that year?” Theo asked, stopping and turning to her. Her silence was answer enough- no, he hadn’t. He wasn’t surprised though; as far as he knew, Draco had only discussed it with one person, and that was him. “What I’m going to tell you is between us, do you understand? I promised Draco I’d never say anything to another living soul and I’m not breaking this promise lightly. This has to be done in order to make you understand why he is the way he is.”

 

She looked at him curiously and followed as he began walking towards the tiny flower garden at the end of the drive. She had often reminisced about that ‘lost year’ as she and Harry called it, but never once had she thought about what Draco or any of the other children of the Death Eaters had gone through. To her and everyone else, they were just as guilty as their parents and didn’t deserve sympathy. She now realized perhaps they had been wrong to do that.

 

“I know you know about him being forced to kill Dumbledore- that’s common knowledge, but what you don’t know is the psychological and emotional trauma he went through in sixth year, and the violence he was forced to be a part of the following year. No one knew what he was going through except for me.”

 

“But why would he divulge such private information to someone who wasn’t even a close friend?” Hermione asked. It was true- she never saw Draco and Nott together, and assumed they moved in different circles at school.

 

 

“Oh, but we were close, Granger!” he said with a smirk, “It was out of necessity that we became friends.” He sat down on a wrought iron bench that was next to a bone-dry birdbath and a few sickly looking Rhododendron bushes. “We knew the repercussions of our parent’s beliefs all too well, and sought each other out simply out of loneliness. We needed to be around each other for sanity’s sake. It was hard to walk around not knowing if it was going to be your last day on earth, or wondering if you were going to be forced to kill or rape someone simply because the Dark Lord woke up hating you that day. We clung to each other desperately. Kept one another focused. Held the other tightly when… when our mission was over and we broke down sobbing uncontrollably.”

 

Theo looked out over the grounds and sighed. He hated remembering the time he spent with the Death Eaters and Voldemort. It was something he and Draco wished they could erase from their minds. Once, they had even given serious thought to Obliviating each other because the pain and the guilt was almost more than they could live with.

 

As things got worse, Draco seemed to just stop caring and would walk around like a zombie. He just stopped feeling- anything. It was too dangerous to feel. Your thoughts might betray you. After all, Voldemort could see into your mind, your heart, your soul and there was no bloody way Theo or Draco wanted that.

 

Hermione couldn’t believe what she was hearing. To think that these two young men were forced to… to… “Did you say you and… and Draco were forced to kill and ra…” she could barely get the foul word out of her mouth, “Rape people?” She closed her eyes for a second, trying to calm herself. She, Harry and Ron knew Draco was probably being forced to do unimaginable things under threat of death, but never, ever did she think it was anything as disgusting as rape and murder. “Tell me I heard you wrong,” she said, slowly opening her eyes and looking at Theo, who was stone-faced.

 

“Do you recall when you and Potter were captured and taken to Malfoy Manor?”

 

“Like that’s something that’s easily forgettable!” That day was burned into her memory, and there were still times when she awoke in the middle of the night, screaming as if she were still being tortured.

 

“Yes, well… you may think you suffered that day, but it’s nothing compared to what happened to Draco after you escaped.”

 

 

She was afraid to ask. “Theo, I don’t even want to know. I don’t think I can handle…”

 

“I’ll spare you the details, Granger. Let’s just say The Dark Lord was less than happy with everyone in the house, but most of all, he was furious with the Malfoys. Lucius had screwed up royally one to many times, and since Draco had failed to do in Dumbledore, he was deemed as much as a fuck up as his father.”

 

“Did… he hurt him?” Hermione knew it was a stupid question, but didn’t know what else to say.

 

“Hurt him?” Theo asked, leaning forward, his arms on his thighs, his head held in his shaking hands. “Hermione, he tortured him with the Cruciatus until he lost consciousness, and then he tossed him into the dungeon. He sent Death Eaters down there daily to beat the living shit out of him. I’m not sure how long he was in there without food or water, but I’ll never forget the way Narcissa screamed when the Dark… Voldemort brought him back up into the house, only to Crucio him some more.”

 

Hermione was appalled. “He made Narcissa watch?” She was suddenly aware of the horrified look in Theo’s eyes and it frightened her. “What? Did something else happen?”

 

Theo was groaning inside. Never had he nor Draco spoke about what happened that day- not even to each other. They liked to pretend it never happened… but it did, and no matter how much Theo tried to push it way- to pass it off as a nightmare- it was there. It was real and it had happened.

 

“Everyone was there,” he said, shutting his eyes recalling the vivid details that he had tried his hardest to repress all these years. “Vo… Voldemort stopped torturing him, and Draco managed to get to his knees. He was filthy, exhausted and had been beaten so badly, his left eye was swollen shut and there was dried blood on his face. I had never seen such a sorry sight in my life.”

 

Hermione, who had never seen Malfoy looking anything but tidy and well put together, could not even imagine what he would have looked like.

 

“He struggled to speak and when he did, all he said was ‘forgive me.’” He glanced over at Hermione, who looked appalled. “I know you think him crazy for not sticking up for himself, for fighting back and whatever else you courageous people do in times like those, but he was a defeated man, Hermione. He was a shell of his former self, and all he wanted was for his suffering to end.” Hermione said nothing, so Theo continued on, “Voldemort only laughed at him. You know, that high pitched psycho laugh only crazy people can achieve?”

 

“I’ve heard it once or twice,” she said.

 

“He told Draco he didn’t believe in forgiveness, but there was something he could do to prove that he was sorry for his incompetence…” The next part was something he never thought he’d be telling another living soul. “Draco said he was willing to do whatever it took. Voldemort snapped his fingers and motioned to Greyback, who left the room and quickly returned with someone… it was … was a Muggle girl who was screaming in terror and mumbling crazy nonsense. She looked like death warmed over and you could tell that Greyback had been ‘toying’ with her because she had bite marks on her arms and scratches on her face.”

 

The girl hadn’t looked familiar to him, but was about the same age as he and Draco, and as her liquid brown eyes met his and he saw that pleading, crazed look in them, he felt his stomach jump into his throat. He wasn’t sure what The Dark Lord had planned, but he could tell that something big was about to happen- something big that he wanted no part of. “He… told me to help Draco to his feet and then he snatched the girl by the hair and shoved her over to us. I remember she stumbled, almost knocking Draco over, and as she fell, she grabbed his robes and started begging for her mother and saying over and over that she just wanted to go home. Draco couldn’t even look at her and he was trying to shove her away, but all it did was make her cling even more to him.”

 

“We were disgusted, but the worst was yet to come. Voldemort said… he ordered Draco to…” Visions of girl’s white, scared face flashed through his mind. The way she shook with fear, the way her wide eyes were panic stricken. “He told Draco to rape the girl!” He almost shouted it out, and then with the back of his hand, he wiped his mouth like what just spewed form it was vomit. “Draco refused and then… and then Voldemort aimed his wand at Narcissa and Crucio’d her. Lucius darted towards her and he was blown across the room by some spell from Bella, who was laughing like a loon.”

 

“Voldemort again ordered Draco to rape her, and when he reused again, Narcissa got another dose. By now, she was screaming in pain and Draco pressed his hands over his ears to shut it out. Voldemort just kept at it, torturing her and laughing that if he didn’t do what he was told, then he was going to kill her. Draco finally couldn’t take it any longer and he just… just broke…”

 

He did more than that though. The poor man lost his marbles, and Theo had never seen anything like it before and never wanted to see it again. “There was this sound that came from him- it was like some trapped, crazed animal and he just attacked her; ripped off her clothes and…”

 

“Please!” Hermione said, through her tears. “I… I don’t want to hear… I can’t…”

 

“She was screaming at the top of her lungs; bucking her hips, scratching at him, drawing blood, and… and everyone was laughing and cheering him on. It was sick!” He remembered all those jeering faces, telling Draco to give that Muggle bitch what she deserved. “Voldemort saw how much the woman was fighting and he told me…” Theo licked his lips; all the spit in his mouth had suddenly dried up. “He told me to hold her down and I was so damn scared for my life that I didn’t even hesitate. I got down by her head and held her shoulders down and covered her mouth the best I could.”

 

The next part had given him nightmares for years, and was the cause of his former addiction to firewhisky and sleeping potions. “Draco was totally mad; crying and mumbling about wanting to die and that’s when it hit me.” He looked Hermione directly in the eyes. “This was it. This was our lives. This stinking, fucking mess- this violence, constant fear and pain was all there was. I hated my father for what my life had become. I hated Voldemort for causing so much suffering, but most of all, I hated myself for not having the courage to stand up and stop what was happening; I hated myself for not being able to save us- Draco and me from hell.”

 

Theo fell silent and Hermione thought perhaps this horror story was over, but she wasn’t that lucky.

 

“Draco and I happened to look up at the same time and our eyes connected. It was like we read each other’s minds. We now knew what we had signed up for. We knew there was no escaping our destiny, but here was this woman- this innocent girl who’s only crime was being a Muggle. What was going to happen to her? Were they going to simply Avada Kedravra her when this was over? Probably not; they’d keep her alive and treat her like a fuck toy is what they would do, and no matter if she was a Muggle or not, no one deserved a life like that, and so I did what I had to do. I…”

 

 

Theo could hear his voice cracking as he spoke and knew that at any second, he was going to start bawling like a baby- something he did not want to do in front of a woman. He bent forward, his hands over his face, trying to hide. “My hand had been covering her mouth to keep her screams silent and I slowly moved it so that it covered her nose as well. Draco blinked- his only way to convey to me that he agreed. I pressed my hand harder, suffocating her, and I’ll never forget the way her eyes flew open in sudden comprehension of what was happening and then how they changed- it was like they looked thankful or something…” He suddenly started sobbing and was immediately ashamed of his display of unmanly emotion.

 

Hermione scooted over and after a brief hesitation she placed her hand on his back. “It’s okay,” she said, tears rolling down her face. “You have to believe that that woman knew it wasn’t yours or Draco’s fault. I’m sure she was grateful to you for making sure she was safe.” She caressed his back lovingly, the tears falling from her eyes landing on his shirt. “No one can blame you for what happened, and you really shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. You and Draco are survivors, and you might think you are a coward, but what you did for that girl was brave, Theo.”

 

Theo wiped the snot from his dripping nose with the back of his hand and turned his head to her. He finally understood what Malfoy saw in this girl. Even though he and Draco had made her life a living hell back in school and even after everything that happened in the war, she still was able to forgive. She was one in a million and Draco was a lucky man. “Thank you for your kindness, Hermione,” he said, the lump in his throat subsiding a bit. “It’s hard for Draco and I to go through life pretending these things never happened. All we want is to be normal- to have a normal life and Draco sees that with you this can be possible. All he wants is love and happiness- something he’s never had… something that everyone else takes for granted.”

 

He stood up, putting his hands in his pockets, his body blocking out the sun. Before he turned to leave, Theo said had something more to say. “Hermione, that time you spent with Draco on that reward was the happiest I’ve ever seen him. You give him hope. You make him believe that even for him, love is a possibility. Please, give him a chance to show you what truly lies in his heart. I promise you, you won’t be disappointed.”

 

And with that, he turned and walked away. Hermione watched him go until he became a speck and then disappeared altogether. She thought about going back to the control trailer, but decided instead to just sit and think… about Draco.

 

Hours later, as the sun set and the crickets came out to serenade her, she smiled.

 

A/N: I know the last two chapters have been very depressing, but that’s now over and it’s fun and laughs from here on out- I promise!


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